Curtsies & Conspiracies (Finishing School, #2)(79)

Dimity looked as if she might faint again.

At which moment the parlor door burst open and Soap, carrying all those things needed to clean a chimney and a good deal more besides, clattered inside. He was covered in even more soot than usual, shedding it as he walked.

The countess let out a small scream. “My carpets!”

Sophronia was instantly on her guard. Soap wouldn’t make a fuss unless he wanted to warn them of something.

The sootie doffed his cap at the august personages. “Evening, all. I’m here for the chimneys. Said I was to start with this room, if that suits.”

“No, that certainly does not suit,” said the countess.

“But madam, skinny as a pickled gherkin, I am. I fits, I assure you.”

Oh, dear, thought Sophronia, picking up on Soap’s hint, we’ve got Picklemen coming.

Mild chaos ensued, with the countess’s staff trying to hustle Soap out of the room, struggling to stop him from shedding further. Soap dodged them and clanged loudly. The countess issued increasingly strident instructions.

Sophronia and Sidheag took the opportunity to shift closer to Dimity and Pillover.

“What are you doing here?” mouthed Dimity at them.

Sophronia made a small shushing gesture.

Into the madness strode a tall, elderly gentleman in a top hat with a band of green about it. He was followed by three similarly dressed men, a short lady in somber grays carrying a reticule shaped like a metal sausage dog, and Felix Mersey.

Sophronia thought, Now we’re really in the soup.

The handsome footman followed, looking harried. “I tried to stop them, Countess, but they insisted, and he is a duke.”

The tall, reedy vampire placed himself before the countess protectively. “Duke Golborne!”

“Duke Hematol,” replied the Pickleman.

My goodness, thought Sophronia, Felix took my suggestion and involved his father, how remarkable. I may owe him another kiss.

The short lady, who Sophronia realized was Madame Spetuna in a new disguise, put her reticule on the floor. The reticule puffed steam out its ears excitedly and trundled in Sophronia’s direction, tail wagging back and forth.

The countess shrieked even louder. “Mechanimal! Get that repulsive thing out of my hive!”

Several of the staff left off chasing Soap and dove for Bumbersnoot, who scuttled away at a much greater speed than Sophronia had thought him capable.

The countess began fanning herself vigorously with a gold lace fan. Then she squealed a third time, for Bumbersnoot bumped against her foot. A maid dove after him, upsetting a lamp with a stained-glass shade.

Duke Hematol reached out with supernatural reflexes and caught the lamp before it fell.

This display of otherworldly prowess upset the head Pickleman, Felix’s father. He began to harangue the vampires, accusing them of all manner of dastardly deeds. The chief offense of which seemed to be trying to steal control of the crystalline guidance valve and its patents and production. Although they must have seen the body, no one cared about the girl who had been savaged. That, apparently, was ordinary vampire practice.

“We will not have Picklemen harnessing the aether and using it against us!” the Duke of Hematol said in defense of the vampire position. “Nor will we be ostracized from a technology that can change the course of human transport! We will not permit you to maintain sole control. Other possible applications for these valves are too dangerous.” It was like a heated debate in the House of Lords.

Soap, shrugging off all attempts at dismissal, went over to the fireplace and began clattering up it, causing as much ruckus as possible—more, in fact, than one might expect.

Bumbersnoot charged about with Westminster drones in hot pursuit.

Sophronia gave Dimity the nod.

Dimity cast herself prostrate at the feet of the Picklemen, begging them for salvation from imminent vampire doom. She claimed all manner of mistreatment at the hands of the countess. The tea was lukewarm. The biscuits stale. The seat cushion lumpy. And a girl had been bitten to death right in front of her! She demanded she be rescued instantly and rounded out her complaints with a plaintive explanation that she was missing a ball!

Bumbersnoot trundled over Dimity’s elegantly draped skirts, pausing to nibble at a large purple bow, before dodging the grasping hands of a footman.

Pillover began arguing with his sister. Protesting that, for being kidnapped, they had actually been treated fairly and the tea was excellent. Sophronia wasn’t certain if he was aware of the plan, which currently consisted of causing as much pandemonium as possible, or if he simply had a brother’s objection to a sister’s fibs.

Felix had spent the past few minutes staring at Sophronia, his mouth agape. He looked like a fish. A handsome fish, but a fish nonetheless. However, Sophronia knew it was only a matter of time before he got his voice back and demanded to know why she was dressed like a circus dandy. She made frantic silencing motions at him.

The two dukes moved from debating to yelling. The Pickleman claimed that the vampires had no right to go around kidnapping children and forcing the hand of perfectly respectable scientists. The vampire protested that any technology that excluded the supernatural ought to be banned outright.

Meanwhile, Soap upended the entire coal scuttle onto the fireplace stoop with a tremendous crash.

Bumbersnoot scalded a chambermaid, who screamed.

The countess stood up, trembling in agitation. No doubt her well-run household had never before seen such chaos.