Read Online The Interrupted Tale by Maryrose Wood - Free Book Online Page B

he died so unexpectedly. He could have told us all about it, and then the mystery would be solved.”
    â€œBut what if he is not dead?” Penelope nearly blurted—yet she stopped herself, for she had no proof that Quinzy was really Edward Ashton, and she knew Lord Fredrick would never believe her without proof.
    It was only a trick of the light, of course, but the lips of the taxidermy tiger seemed to pull back into a snarl. Uneasy, Penelope rose from her chair. “My lord, the challenge you present may be beyond my current abilities. However, I will soon be visiting my alma mater, the Swanburne Academy for Poor Bright Females. There one will find some of the finest educators in all of England, as well as a noted expert in animal training techniques.” (By this she meant Dr. Westminster. It verged on hyperbole—that is to say, wild exaggeration—to call him a “noted expert,” as he was really just a simple country veterinarian. However, some of his methods had proven quite useful with the Incorrigibles, particularly his kind manner and judicious use of treats.)
    Penelope backed slowly toward the door as she spoke, and she never took her eyes off the tiger. “If anyone would know how to improve your condition, the teachers at Swanburne will. Upon my arrival, I will consult with my colleagues there, and together we shall come up with a . . .” She paused to think of a name that was both descriptive and had an easy-to-pronounce acronym, always a great boon to any endeavor. “A Howling Elimination Program, to help ease your symptoms.”
    Lord Fredrick chewed on the end of his cigar. “All right. But don’t let anyone know it’s me that needs the HEP, understood? Say it’s for the children, or whatever you please. Next full moon, we start! And don’t say a word to Constance about any of this, either. Blast, why did Mother have to tell her that we oughtn’t have children because of my ‘condition’? Constance doesn’t even like babies. But tell my wife she can’t have something, and soon enough it’s all she wants.” He slumped back into his chair. “Curses and tar pits, and children raised by wolves! Why can’t I have a normal family?”
    He seemed to forget all about Penelope then, and stared despondently into the fire.
    â€œAnd how is the Widow Ashton, my lord?” Penelope asked, to be polite, and also to remind him that she was still there, waiting to be dismissed.
    â€œOh,Mother’s fine.” Aimlessly, he picked up a thin, stained envelope from the table next to his chair. It was the one Penelope had seen on the mail tray, with its exotic stamps and foreign postmarks. “Just got a letter from her. She’s on a ’round-the-world tour with her friends from the croquet club. She says she plans to enjoy herself thoroughly while awaiting the return of her beloved Edward, now that she knows he’s alive. Listen to this.” He read from the letter in a mincing voice. “‘My gratitude to Madame Ionesco knows no bounds. If not for her peek Beyond the Veil, I would never have known my long-lost Edward lives!’ Soothsayers! Poppycock!”
    It was Lord Fredrick’s turn to look at Edward Ashton’s portrait. “Sturdy-looking fellow, wasn’t he? Bet he sank like a stone in that tar pit.” Abruptly, he tossed the letter from his mother into the fire, where it crackled and quickly turned to ash. “So you’re off to Swanburne, eh? You might see my friend Quinzy there. He’s on the board of trustees now. Can’t imagine how he finds the time for charity work, being a judge and whatnot.”
    Penelope kept her voice calm. “I expect I will see him, if he is there, my lord.”
    Lord Fredrick returned to his chair. “There’s a book of mine he asked to borrow, and for the life of me I can’t find it. He swears it’s in the library.