RenaldasMessageVery early in the morning, a maid slipped a note beneath the door to Giulian's suite. It was marked "PRIVATE", "CONFIDENTIAL" and "URGENT". When opened it read, "Dearest Brother, I must see you immediately. The most terrible thing has happened. Your devoted sister, R." It was, perhaps, typical of Renalda that in the heat of the moment, she overlooked the fact that Giulian had two devoted sisters who had the initial R. But the writing was unquestionably the elegant hand that she had learned (along, it seemed sometimes, with very little else) at the Convent, as opposed to the rounded schoolgirl hand that Rosalor still employed. And there was no mistaking the urgency of the message. The note, collected by the ever-vigilant Peterson, was delivered to Giulian with his breakfast coffee, considerably later than was customary for him. He had, however, returned to Anderon House extremely late the night before; and despite the hour, had not been able to resist the lure of the first hot bath he'd had the opportunity to take in over a week. The relaxing effects of this, together with sheer physical exhaustion, had overborne both his immediate anxieties and his insomniac habit, and he had slept far into the morning. Having several notes of his own to write, he had asked Peterson to bring his breakfast to the study, along with whatever letters had arrived during his stay in the lower city. Renalda's was at the top of the pile. Giulian picked it up, with a slight frown at the superscription, and unsealed it. As he read the brief note, the frown deepened. I'm not sure I can deal with one more 'terrible thing' just now, he thought fleetingly. Nevertheless, after taking a large swallow of coffee, he reached for paper and pen and scratched out a note in return. Dear Nalda, I'm home. Come whenever you like. Jules He sealed the note and gave it to Peterson, saying, "See that Lady Renalda gets this without delay." As Giulian's breakfast was rather later this morning than that of young ladies who had Convent School to attend, it was actually half past four before there was a tap on the door of Giulian's suite. "Peterson," said Renalda, breathlessly, "is my brother still in?" She held up a somewhat battered paper bag. "Tell him I brought gingerbread from Mother Hobbes'!" "He came in a little while ago, Lady Renalda," answered Peterson. "If you'll come into the sitting room, I'll inform him that you're here." He escorted Renalda down the hall, past the Nobukai masks that used to hang in Jules' old bedroom in the family's wing, into the sitting room with its comfortable chairs and sofas and the wild mountainscape over the fireplace. Peterson went out, leaving the door open behind him. A few minutes later Giulian came in, looking a trifle windblown, a faded maroon cardigan pulled over a shirt open at the neck. Renalda knew from experience that he must just have changed out of his driving coat, being disinclined to trail stable smells around the house. "Jules!" said Renalda -- and then she ran across the room to hug him. She did so fervently, with all her enthusiasm, and yet there was an ingrained care; even from an early age, Renalda had been taught to control her impetuosity to avoid disrupting Giulian's sense of balance -- and it had now become second nature. He returned her hug, one-armed, but holding her a few moments longer than he usually did. So close he could see that her eyes were a little puffy, as though she had been crying, and her smile was a little forced. The smile he gave her was genuine, though his eyes were tired. "Hullo, Nalda. What's the matter?" He swung over to his favorite caneback rocker and settled himself into it, propping his crutches in the rack nearby. "Peterson's bringing tea to go with that gingerbread," he informed her. She smiled again and took her favourite seat, perching on the padded bench that ran round the open fireplace. Normally, she was enough of a girl to push up her skirts and toast her legs, but today the skirts remained firmly down, even after Peterson had set out the tea and sliced gingerbread on the small side table. Once he had gone, she stood up. "Shall I do the honours?" Without waiting for an answer, she made her way to the side table and began to pour the tea, ensuring that Giulian's was just the way he liked it. Without looking up from this so that he couldn't see her face, she asked, "Jules ... have you ever been in love?" Giulian cast her a sharp look at that, but answered lightly for the moment, "Oh, numerous times. I had a hopeless passion for our governess when I was eight. Lady Greywood had my undying devotion for a while. When I was just learning to drive solo, there was an extremely dashing lady in a high-perch phaeton to whom I completely lost my heart, though I never did discover her name. "Why do you ask?" Renalda looked up at him, a little frown between her brows. Whatever answer she had been expecting, it wasn't this, it seemed. "I think ... I think I might be in love," she said at last. "I'm not really sure." She brought the tea over to his seat, handed him one cup and then went and fetched the gingerbread, setting it on a side table where she could reach it too as she went back to her seat on the fender. "I do know I'm in trouble though," she added gloomily as she raised the tea-cup to her lips. Then she stopped ... and set it down again. "You look like you've been in trouble too!" she said. "But not with Father..." Giulian shook his head, looking troubled nonetheless. "Not me, at least not anymore. I'm worried about a -- a friend of mine." He looked up at Renalda keenly. "What has you in trouble with Father? Does it have to do with possibly being in love?" "It has more," said Renalda bitterly, "to do with Rosie being a horrid little sneak." She gave a sigh. "You see ... I had a letter -- a perfectly lovely letter. Really quite proper and everything. And I slept with it under my pillow and Rosie saw it and wanted to know what it was but of course I didn't tell her. So she went around the schoolroom singing out, 'Nalda's got a secret! Nalda's got a secret!' And of course Miss Prism wanted to get to the bottom of it and insisted that I show her the letter, and when I did she gave a sort of gasp and took it to Father." "And who," Giulian asked gently, "was the letter from?" Renalda shot a quick look at him. "Just ... someone I met at dancing class. And ... and again here at the House." She swallowed. "In the ... garden." Her head sank a little lower, the dusky curls falling forward over her face, till Giulian could barely hear the next words. "Romeo Acciaio." Giulian's mouth tightened fractionally as he remembered Romeo's veiled teasing on the subject of Renalda, the evening the experiment started. If Acciaio hurt his little sister, he'd... He took a deep breath and said, "That could be serious, Nalda. Because ... well, it could be serious. That is, there isn't any reason our respective parents mightn't allow the two of you to marry, someday. Is that what you want?" "I don't know!" It was almost a wail from his sister. "I do like him, awfully ... he's the kindest boy I ever met. He came to the dancing class -- and he danced first with me before any of the girls in the Sixth. And when I saw him again ... It was so exciting, Jules. I slipped away from the House when I thought everyone was asleep -- and I met him down by the lake." She drew a deep breath. "You can't believe how romantic it was!" She was watching Giulian now anxiously, as though trying to gauge his feelings. They were difficult to read, but all in all it didn't look as if Giulian was precisely swept away by the romanticism of it all. "He's awfully good looking, isn't he?" she said. "I don't know ... why he'd spend time with me ... unless..." She coloured a little. "Unless he's attracted, yes," said Giulian. But does he mean anything by it? he wondered to himself. And if so, what? "We played tiddly winks in the boathouse," Renalda went on, clearly emboldened by the thought that she had found a rare sympathetic ear. "And he gave me a little dragon pin and I gave him a ri ..ribbon. And..." Her dark eyes were wide as she looked at him, and he was aware of a slight hesitation before she went on, "And then Father came with Father Tom -- and Romeo had to swim the lake to escape!" Giulian couldn't resist asking, "Tiddly winks?" Renalda gave a wicked little smile. "Yes! Gallfrey's set was there in the boathouse, you see, and we played for ... for forfeits. And it was such fun! If I won he was going to..." She realised suddenly that Giulian might not approve of her having driving lessons from someone else and so added hastily, "But I lost -- and so he won my hair ribbon." "Your hair ribbon." Keepsake or trophy? Giulian resisted the impulse to ask what the forfeit would have been for a second game. "I think," he said instead, "I'd better have a talk with Romeo Acciaio." "Oh don't!" wailed Renalda. "Don't say his name like that! You sound just as bad as Father! I had the most hideous lecture from him -- and then a tremendous scolding from Korine who actually said that I'm not too old to spank! If you're against us too..." Her lower lip quivered. Giulian held up a hand. "I'm not, necessarily," he told his sister. "I just want both sides of the story. And I don't want you to be hurt, Nalda, or pushed into something you're not ready for." "But if it is real?" said Renalda eagerly. "Jules -- if it is real, you'll stand our friend and help us to ... to meet and things? "F'instance ... will you take a letter to him? And if he's true and honourable and ... and everything ... you'll give it to him?" Giulian had been watched by less hopeful puppies desirous of a biscuit. "I can't promise anything hole-and-corner," he warned her. "What I can do is give you opportunities to meet socially, on neutral ground so to speak," he waved a hand to indicate the sitting room, "and get to know each other better without all the trappings of romance." "And a letter?" she said hopefully. "Just one letter? Otherwise -- oh Jules, he'll think it was all my fault that Father found out -- and it wasn't, really!" "I can tell him that," Giulian pointed out. "Oh Jules!" said his sister. "If you tell him in that tone of voice, he'll never speak to me again! He'll believe I have taken him in aversion." She looked at him coaxingly. "I'll let you read it, if you like." "Under those terms, I might consider it," he said, raising an eyebrow at her. Renalda heaved a deep sigh. "I knew I could rely on you, Jules!" she said. "When do you think you will see him?" "Soon," Giulian said positively. He already had plans to invite the participants in the Experiment to a war council of sorts. If he wanted to speak with Romeo Acciaio privately, he need only ask him to come a little earlier than the others. "Jules ... what's wrong?" Giulian sighed. "As I said before, a friend of mine is in trouble. At least, we assume so -- her other friends and I. And I don't know yet how bad it might be." Renalda's eyes widened. "What's happened? And who is it? Not that awfully pretty dark haired girl that Maura Benton's older brother saw you driving the other day?" Giulian blinked. Had he...? Yes, he had driven Jovanna over to Bahlmis House the day of the meeting. "It could have been," he allowed. "So who was she, and what's happened?" pressed Renalda. "All Maura Benton's brother could talk about was the matched pair you were driving!" She tossed her head impatiently. "I expect he had an eye on them himself," said Giulian with a trace of satisfaction, before asking Renalda, "And if that's so, how do you know she was pretty?" "Because," said Renalda, with the air of one delivering a clincher, "you wouldn't have taken up any girl in the carriage who was merely passable. "So ... who was she?" "If it was the friend I'm talking about, it was Miss Jovanna Starr, and I was not giving her a ride because she was pretty!" And that, he reflected, was true. Renalda's eyes widened. "Jovanna Starr! The revolutionary? Jules -- what's happened to her? Did she get into trouble with one of the Lords?" "I don't know," said Giulian quietly, the weight of anxiety settling on him again. "She's disappeared, and we don't know what's become of her." Renalda started to say something -- and then fell silent, staring in front of her. Slowly she wrapped her arms around her body, as though hugging herself to keep warm. Finally she lifted her head and looked at him. "Jules ... did Father know you were seeing her?" "I wasn't 'seeing' her -- not in that way," said Giulian. "But yes, Father knew we were acquainted, and about the Experiment. He--" He paused, evidently thinking. Then, in a half-whisper, he said, "I may ask him." Renalda nodded slowly. "Jules ... Father ... he wouldn't ... would he?" Giulian's eyes were veiled. "That isn't," he said slowly, "what I plan to ask him." |
