Read Online The Midnight Queen by Sylvia Izzo Hunter - Free Book Online

manifestation of divine displeasure.
    This ought not to have happened, surely.
    It was not until their much-subdued party had nearly reached Callender Hall that he remembered what else ought not to have happened as it had. If Gray could not set wards, could not shift, could only just call light enough to see by . . . then how had he so effortlessly produced that powerful finding-spell?
    *   *   *
    Amelia blanched at their tale, her blue eyes round, and rang for shawls and hot toddies. The Professor, who had looked aghast at their bedraggled return, grew increasingly dour.
    â€œMr. Marshall has exposed you both to unconscionable dangers,” he declared. “You may be sure he shall not be permitted to do so again.”
    â€œBut, Father!” Joanna exclaimed. “Did you not hear me? It was Mr. Marshall who found me and came to my rescue!”
    â€œFrom a predicament, Joanna, in which he himself had placed you.”
    â€œBut—”
    The door of the sitting-room opened to admit Mrs. Wallis, bearing a tray of steaming cups, and Katell with an armful of winter shawls. Sophie accepted a cup of hot toddy, grateful both for its warmth and for Mrs. Wallis’s timely interruption. The Professor was quite capable of confining them both to the house for the remainder of the summer, simply to punish Joanna’s insolence; to be forced to circumvent such a restriction, as she knew from past experience, would be tedious in the extreme.
    â€œSophia!”
    â€œSir?”
    The Professor regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Have you anything to add to your sister’s tale?”
    Sophie considered pretending that she had had Gray under her eyes all the time and could swear to his innocence. But the Professor would question Morvan and Gwenaëlle, and though either would lie without hesitation to protect her or Joanna, she could not trust that they would do the same for Gray. She could point out again that Joanna had ventured so near the colonnade only to look at the memorial stone, which yesterday the Professor had told Gray was so much worth examining—
    Sophie shut her lips tight on that disquieting thought. Surely she was imagining things—and the Professor would not thank her for making such a suggestion.
    â€œNothing, sir,” she said instead. “I can attest that Joanna’s rescue was just as she tells it, but no more.”
    The moment the Professor looked away, she cast a pleading glance at Mrs. Wallis.
    â€œProfessor, sir,” said the latter. “’Ad not Miss Sophia and Miss Joanna best be put to bed? They ’ave ’ad a dreadful fright and are not themselves.”
    â€œIndeed, Papa,” said Amelia, “I think Mrs. Wallis is quite right.”
    The Professor’s gaze swept over them again, suspicious, but he allowed Mrs. Wallis to bundle them off upstairs.
    Joanna was put firmly to bed, over vigorous protests, and left to her own devices. Mrs. Wallis lingered with Sophie, however, tidying needlessly and asking unaccountable questions.
    â€œI was very frightened indeed,” said Sophie, in answer to one such, “and Joanna I am sure was quite terrified. But we are perfectly recovered now, Mrs. Wallis, I promise you.”
    â€œYes, dearie, I see you are; and you are quite sure there was nothing—this Mr. Marshall ’as not been making a nuisance of ’imself . . . ?”
    Sophie could not at once make sense of this remark; when at length she divined its meaning, she half wondered whether Mrs. Wallis had not been sampling the Professor’s brandy to steady her nerves. Had it been anyone else, she might have said so, but Mrs. Wallis had known her and her sisters from the cradle and had looked after them since their mother’s sudden death—if she was occasionally a trifle zealous in guarding them from harm, it was hardly to be wondered at.
    â€œI have not the least complaint to