Ondine (22 page)

Then he looked at Ondine and a puzzled expression flashed across his face. ‘How old are you, Ondine, really?'

‘Your Grace, I'm fifteen.'

‘Good. I appreciate your honesty. Now, where is that ferret I saw you with?'

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. He'd remembered that? Perhaps the hotel's new name had jogged his memory?

‘Aye, that would be me,' Hamish said.

Now it was the Duke's turn to lose his eyebrows into his greying hair.

Squashed beneath Hamish, Vincent let out a groan of misery.

‘I got yer son a good one earlier tonight,' Hamish said. ‘On the leg.'

Time slowed down for a moment as the Duke digested the information. A pang of sympathy in Ondine felt completely appropriate. After all, a man wearing a bed sheet, with a foreign accent, had just claimed to be a ferret.

The Duke's mouth opened and closed a few times. Perhaps he needed to unlock his jaw so his ears could open more.

To add to the general confusion, some of the hotel's paying guests, wearing dressing gowns and sleeping caps, turned up to check out what was going on.

‘Nothing to worry about,' said Da. ‘We'll provide complimentary breakfast to compensate for your disturbed sleep.' He encouraged the rest of his children and soon-to-be in-laws back to their respective rooms,
and told Melody and Mrs Howser, ‘It's all under control.'

Out of the corner of her eye, Ondine saw her mother lingering in the kitchen, listening in on the conversation.

The Duke's eyes twitched as he looked over Hamish. ‘You say you are the ferret? In that case, change into one.'

Gulp
went Ondine.
What if he can't? It's all my fault. I spent so long wishing him to be a real man, maybe he won't be able to change back. Then the Duke will think we're liars. And if he thinks we lied about a man being a ferret, he'll start to think we've lied about everything else
.

Still sitting on Lord Vincent, Hamish adjusted his toga. ‘I'll do what I can.'

A look of concentration crossed his face and his eyes rolled back under his eyelids.

It was a tense time for Ondine. As much as she loved seeing Hamish in his human form, if he couldn't become a ferret again on command, they'd be in a whole world of trouble.

Relief washed over her as Hamish groaned and
clutched at his stomach. He started to shrink and grow dark. His face – that handsome face – turned furry. It was painful to watch, but Hamish must have been in even more pain.

While everyone stood dumbfounded in wonder, Vincent bucked the suddenly reduced weight off his back and sprang up to make his escape.

‘Hold it!' Flinging his arm out, Da leapt forward and clotheslined Vincent, sending him sprawling.

‘
Khaaak!
' Vincent coughed. ‘That's assault!'

‘I didn't see anything.' The Duke didn't take his eyes off Hamish as he reverted to his Shambles form. You could tell by the way he stroked his goatee with his pinky and ring finger that he was thinking really, really hard about what he'd just seen.

Panting, Shambles looked up at the Duke, then across to Ondine. The tip of his nose looked pale and he swallowed a lot.

‘Well, I'll be.' The Duke clapped his hands. ‘I've seen some magic in my time, but that's mighty powerful. How do you do it?'

Shambles the ferret panted on the ground,
gathering his strength. ‘It's a lawng story.'

The Duke turned to Ondine. ‘You are too young to serve alcohol. You could not have been working in the bar that night. It wasn't you who overheard the plot against me, was it?'

Twist, lurch, flip
went her belly. ‘You are right, Your Grace, I wasn't in the bar. It was Hamish . . . I mean, Shambles. That's what we call him when he's a ferret. He was under a table and he overheard the whole thing. He was the one who encouraged us to warn you of the plot against your life.'

‘I've never seen anything like it. What an incredibly
convenient
talent to have!' the Duke said, still shaking his head as he looked at the ferret on the ground.

Ondine didn't think it was very convenient at all.

‘I wouldnae call it that,' Shambles said, clutching his stomach.

The Duke stood there. All the while a smile played over his face. ‘You must tell me, Ondine, how does he do it?'

‘It's a strong enchantment,' Ondine said. ‘My great-aunt, Colette Romano, cursed him, and only recently
he's been able to rediscover his human form.'

‘Hmm, how very interesting,' the Duke said.

Ondine blushed furiously. Mercury's wings, what an inconvenient time to start blushing again. She managed a squeaky, ‘Hamish is very glad to be human again.'

‘You'd make a good politician.' The Duke winked at her. It had a strange effect in that it should have been friendly, but it creeped her out.

This doesn't feel right.

‘Your great-aunt is the one with the magic?' the Duke asked. ‘She sounds like she'd make a wonderful ally. Would she be here by any chance?'

Something prickled in Ondine's conscience. If the Duke had Old Col under his command, how far would he take things? Sure, the old woman had acted in frustration against Hamish, but that was a one-off. At least, Ondine
hoped
it was a one-off. But what if someone like the Duke ordered her to turn other people into animals? Would her great-aunt be able to refuse?

‘Did somebody ask for me?' Old Col appeared at
the kitchen doorway, her eyes wide and innocent. Like she just
happened
to be nearby.

Listening in, more like.

‘Your Grace, this is my great-aunt Colette.' Ondine made the introductions.

‘May I congratulate you on your good work, madam,' the Duke said. He took her hand and kissed the back of it.

‘Why thank you, Your Grace.'

The Duke's face looked younger, brighter. Like he was having a Very Good Idea. Great even. At that point, one of the Duke's drivers came in and whispered something in his ear. The Duke whispered something back. The driver nodded, then clamped his hand on Vincent's shoulder and marched him outside.

On the floor, Hamish was still a ferret. The Duke stared at him and shook his head again. ‘I've seen so many things . . .' The man used to making speeches seemed temporarily lost for words. Turning to Old Col, he said, ‘I have need for talent in my employ, and you have that. What else can you do apart from turning men into ferrets?'

Old Col did a slow blink, then said, ‘I can keep secrets.'

‘An excellent quality.'

Metal screeched inside Ondine's head.
Did the Duke of Brugel just offer Old Col a job? What kind of job would it be?

On the floor, Shambles began changing back into Hamish. Much to Ondine's relief. Seriously much. It looked painful, though, as if someone were punching him in the belly. From the inside.

It caused another look of wonder to cross the Duke's face. ‘Bravo!' He clapped. ‘That's very, very good. When I came here tonight I thought I would be in for a bad night indeed. Shambles and Ms Romano, you have cast a silver lining on events, wouldn't you agree?'

‘Thank you, Your Grace,' Old Col said.

‘Aye,' Hamish said.

The Duke played with his goatee again. ‘Like I said, I have need of good talent, and you fit the bill. Hamish, you're brave and . . .
adaptable
. You're not afraid to tell me the truth and you think on your feet. I value that.
How would you like to work for me?'

Oh no, this is not good at all. Hamish is supposed to stay here with us, not go off and work for the Duke
. Buzzing filled Ondine's ears as she waited for Hamish to politely refuse the offer. Surely he'd want to stay with them?

‘In what capacity?' The voice belonged to Ma, who had been standing quietly behind them.

Thank goodness for Ma, she'll make it easier for Hamish to say no.

The Duke smiled and looked far too self-assured. The more confident the Duke looked, the more unsteady Ondine felt.

Pure confidence filled the Duke's being. Steady shoulders, non-twitching face, hands palm-outwards. ‘Shambles, in your ferret form, you could provide me with invaluable information. You see, the Duchess lunches on a regular basis with her . . . friends. She needs a companion with a clear head and an eye for detail. Many people take advantage of our hospitality, whether at court here in Venzelemma or at the country estate in Bellreeve. It pains me to admit it, but valuables are going missing. I will be run off my feet
when parliament resumes in autumn. Having someone looking out for me will prove most useful.'

It sounds like spying. Hamish would want nothing to do with that.

‘Go on,' Hamish said, making a mockery of Ondine's thoughts.

‘Nothing so hard as working here, I dare say, and you will be well compensated,' the Duke said.

But . . . but . . . Hamish wants to stay here.

‘Sounds tempting,' Hamish said, putting Ondine's old coat back on. All the while Ondine's pulse roared in her ears because she wanted to stop and ask a dozen questions but felt too terrified to speak.

‘You want him to spy on your guests?' Old Col crossed her arms over her chest.

Instead of denying it, the Duke laughed. ‘You are right, my dear woman, that is exactly what I need you to do. In a nice way, of course. Ms Romano, Shambles, what do you say to joining my employ?'

Say no, say no, say no. Say you want to stay here. I don't like this. He calls you Shambles when you're Hamish.

‘You'll pay me to make sure nothing gets nicked?
I say a big yes to that. I could do it with my eyes closed,' Hamish said.

Ondine looked at Hamish and back at the Duke. Why did Hamish accept so quickly? Didn't he realise if he went to work for the Duke, they'd hardly see each other? Maybe on weekends . . . but that was when the hotel was busiest and then Ondine wouldn't have any time to see him.

The more Ondine thought about it, the sadder she felt. Why, they'd hardly see each other at all!

What counter-offer could she have that would make him stay at the hotel? Judging by the silence from her parents behind her, they had nothing to suggest.

Old Col smiled (a bad sign) and said, ‘Your Grace, I humbly accept.'

The Duke beamed with happiness. ‘I am in your debt. You will begin the first week of September.'

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no!

 

68
The fact that ‘Brugel' is an anagram of ‘burgle' is a total coincidence.

69
Brugel's top military school. Technically it's a reform school with nicer uniforms. And guns. Which is pretty disturbing when you think about it – they take the worst delinquents from the richest families, then teach them how to use weapons.

T
he worst thing in the world had just happened right in front of her eyes, and nobody realised! If Hamish worked for the Duke, Ondine might never see him again! What a disaster! He'd be so busy, he might forget about her! He might even fall in love with someone else!

Ondine's head hurt from all the exclamation points!

After the Duke had gone, sleep proved impossible. Apart from the fact that she didn't have her bed sheet (Hamish had taken that for his toga), everything felt wrong. Tossing and turning held no appeal at all, so she made her way down to the kitchen for some warm milk. Maybe that would help?

She didn't see Melody until she nearly crashed into her.

‘Can't sleep?' Melody asked.

‘Got that right.' Ondine gave a dramatic sigh to prove her point, then set about raiding the fridge. ‘You neither, huh?'

‘Um . . . yeah.'

A troubling thought scudded
⁷⁰
through Ondine. ‘You weren't trying to read my dreams, were you?'

Melody looked at the ground, as if there were something very interesting in the tiles. ‘I'm sorry, Ondi. It's just that I know something big happened here tonight with the Duke, but Mrs Howser pulled me away before I could find out. And I really want to know.'

No privacy during her waking hours, now Melody wanted in on her private thoughts. ‘You don't need to read my dreams. Just . . . ask yourself, what's the worst that could have happened tonight? Because that's exactly what did happen.'

‘Vincent got away?'

‘Worse than that. The Duke offered Hamish a job.'

‘But that's great!'

Frustration made Ondine slam the refrigerator door. ‘No it's not, it's terrible!'

‘It is?'

Ondine wanted to scream. ‘Yes, it
is
. Hamish will be
ages
away and I'll never get to see him.'

‘But . . . he'll still be
around
. I mean, it's not like he's going all the way to . . . I dunno, New Zealand or something.'