Read Online The Derring-Do Club and the Empire of the Dead by David Wake - Free Book Online

items in German, but with such a mumble that no–one could understand the importance of the pipe spigot in the wall, the heritage of a faded watercolour, the design of a blue chair or why a perfectly blank plastered wall should be of interest. Finally, he reached a door and ushered Kroll and Metzger inside. Further along was another room and he held the door open.
    Pieter ducked his head under and Earnestine followed.
    The landlord pointed to various items in what was clearly his best room. It boasted a wash basin, a writing desk and chair, an extraordinary view of the white peaked mountains and the large, robust four–poster that dominated the space.
    Pieter tipped him a coin.
    The man nodded, smiled and chuckled before leaving, closing the door behind him. Pieter and Earnestine were left standing next to the comfortable and inviting bed.
    Earnestine coughed politely.
    Pieter undid the top button of his jacket.
    Earnestine blinked at him.
    Pieter smiled, continued unbuttoning and the dark material teased open to reveal the white frills of his shirt.
    Earnestine tapped the heel of her shoe on the floorboard.
    Pieter took off his jacket.
    Earnestine folded her arms and glowered.
    Pieter placed the jacket over the back of the chair.
    Earnestine pointed at the bed.
    Pieter pretended not to understand.
    Earnestine lips narrowed into a fine line.
    Pieter held up his hands in surrender: “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
    “Yes,” Earnestine said sharply, and then when he didn’t take the hint, she added: “In another room.”
    Pieter looked round as if somehow he could examine the entire inn: “I doubt there is another free room.”
    “I have a reputation.”
    “So do I.”
    “Exactly.”
    “No–one will know.”
    “I will know!”
    “I don’t see any alternative.”
    “Herr Cheshire Cat can sleep with the Hatter and the Dormouse!”
    “I doubt there’s enough space.”
    “That is hardly my concern!”
    Earnestine snatched Pieter’s jacket off the chair and handed it to him. The Prince contrived to hold Earnestine’s hands as he took it back, but Earnestine jerked away.
    “Out!” she commanded.
    Pieter paused in the doorway to click his heels and bow: “Jawohl, mein Fräulein.”
    “I am not your Fräulein.”
    “But Liebchen, I–”
    “Liebchen!”
    Earnestine slammed the door, bolted it, pulled the chair in the way and then decided that the writing desk would be better, so she heaved the mahogany weight across. Once she’d finished, there was a knock on the door.
    “Yes?”
    “Sleep well.”
    Earnestine entertained a few choice retorts, but they all involved the B–word and so she held her tongue.
    Miss Georgina
    Quickly and breathlessly with leaps back and forth, Georgina told the three British men about the Austro-Hungarian soldiers’ arrival through the snow, Miss Trenchard being attacked, the dogs, the shooting and the urgency of rescuing her sisters. When she’d finished, Caruthers had forced her to sit down and go through it all again from the beginning.
    The three of them then went into the other room to discuss the matter privately. Georgina sat and fidgeted. When they came back in, Caruthers simply nodded.
    “B– but you have to stay here,” said Merryweather.
    Georgina let out a strangled screech: “You don’t know the way.”
    “She is right,” Caruthers agreed.
    “B– but…” Merryweather flapped his arms in exasperation. “Ah! She has n– nothing to wear.”
    “That’s true,” Caruthers said, “doesn’t Mac have some spare cold weather gear.”
    McKendry got to his feet: “Aye.”
    Merryweather turned to the others: “That wasn’t what I meant.”
    Georgina was amused that Merryweather was still trying to think of an objection, or at least that’s what she assumed the procession of expressions across his face meant – it was endearing.
    McKendry came back in with a variety of bulky outfits and dumped them onto the table.
    “We’ll get changed in there,” said