hurried to keep up with his friend's long strides. Lord Arthur was behaving in a most odd way. Dolph began to wish he had not brought him.
Felicity and her stepfather each kept an icy silence on the road home. A great crashing peal of thunder rolled about the turrets of the castle as they entered the polished gloom of the hall.
Felicity was about to stalk off up the stairs, but Mr. Palfrey seized her arm in a vicious grip and started to call for his servants.
The butler, the footmen, the maids, and the housekeeper came hurrying into the hall.
Mr. Palfrey addressed them, still keeping tight hold of Felicity. “My stepdaughter has disgraced me,” he cried. “She is to be whipped!”
Felicity managed to pull free, and stood white-faced, looking at the servants.
Not one of them moved to obey the command. They stood stolidly, in a circle, looking at their master.
“Whip her!” screamed Mr. Palfrey, beside himself with rage.
Anderson, the butler, cleared his throat. “No, sir,” he said. “That we cannot do.”
Another great peal of thunder rocked the castle.
Mr. Palfrey stood panting with rage. He could not fire them all. And he longed for their admiration and respect.
He forced a laugh. “I was a trifle overset,” he said with a ghastly grin. “Get to your room, Felicity. I shall talk about this later.”
Felicity flew up the stairs, straight to the nursery, where she threw herself against Miss Chubb's well- upholstered bosom, and cried her eyes out. At long last, she calmed down and gave Miss Chubb the whole story.
“I have no hope,” said Felicity with a pathetic little sob. “No hope at all.”
“I have been talking to John Tremayne in your absence,” said Miss Chubb. “We have a plan. We are going to run away tonight-you, me and John.”
Chapter Five
“This is mad. Quite mad,” said Felicity Channing with a shiver. “How on earth did I agree to such a mad scheme?”
She stood on top of the cliffs, a little way away from the castle, while the wind howled and the thunder crashed and tumbled about the heavens. A blinding sheet of lightning showed a rope tied firmly to a rock. At the end of that rope hung John Tremayne, staging the “accident.”
Miss Chubb's plan was being put into operation. The governess had been planning it for some time, never really thinking they would do it, until Felicity's distress forced her to turn the dream into reality. The terrible weather conditions were perfect, and they might never again have such a good chance.
Felicity had left a note to say she could not bear to marry the baron and was running away with Miss Chubb and John Tremayne. They had packed one trunk with their clothes and another trunk that John had hurled over the cliff after opening the lid and removing some of the clothes.
They had gone to a part of the cliff that had fallen into the sea, the land broken away by the force of the deluge. John had noticed this section of cliff before and knew it was only a matter of time before it gave way. Before he had let himself down over the cliff, he had dug deep gouges in the earth with his hands to make it look like someone had desperately tried to save themselves. Now he was leaving torn scraps of clothing caught in rocks and bushes on the way down, as well as some of the contents of the trunk.
As abruptly as it had started, the storm stopped, the huge black mass of clouds sailing away overhead on a high wind. The moon shone down.
“Oh, hurry,” breathed Felicity.
But John's head was already appearing back over the cliff's edge. He clambered onto safe ground, untied the rope, and picking up the heavy jewel box, slung it up onto his shoulder. Felicity and Miss Chubb followed behind, carrying the trunk with their clothes between them.
Felicity and Miss Chubb were dressed in their men's disguises. The going over the soggy, uneven ground was rough, and Felicity was beginning to wish they had thrown this trunk over the cliff as well when they came to a carriage and horses, hidden behind a thick stand of trees.
“Where did you get this carriage, John?” whispered Felicity, trying to stop her teeth from chattering.
“I went over to Baxeter and bought the lot. I gave a false name, of course.”
“But where did you get the money?”
“Miss Chubb's savings,” said John.
“So, you had all this planned for some time,” said Felicity.
“Don't talk,” said John urgently. “Get in the carriage.”
Felicity and Miss Chubb climbed in. The carriage dipped and swayed as John climbed up on the box.
“Where are we going?” asked Felicity as the carriage moved off.
“Falmouth,” said Miss Chubb. “It is at Falmouth that you take up your new identity.”
“New…? Miss Chubb, you had better start at the beginning and tell me what you and John have planned.”
“Well, it's like this,” said Miss Chubb, her voice sounding oddly youthful and excited. “Although I hoped the baron might not prove to be too terrible, I heard no good of him at all. I remembered how you said we could escape with the jewels, but we would always be hunted and not be able to live openly, even though Mr. Palfrey did not know we had them. So John and I decided that if we could get you to London, and give you a new identity-one that would be grand enough, and would allow you to sell the jewels openly to the best jewelers-you could have a Season and find a gentleman to suit you.”
“And who am I going to be?”
“Princess of Brasnia.”
“That is ridiculous. There is no such place.”
“There is now,” said Miss Chubb cheerfully, “for I have just invented it. I used to attend the London Season in the old days with my charges, before I came here to work for the Channings. It always struck me as odd that English society was almost ignorant of geography. So, you are now Princess Felicity of Miadaslav, which everyone knows is the capital of Brasnia, and I am your companion, Madame Chubiski.”
“We'll never get away with it,” said Felicity, wondering whether to laugh or cry.
“Rich people can get away with anything,” said Miss Chubb cynically. “I have enough of my life's savings left to make a good show of it in Falmouth. You see, in our disguises, we arrive at the best inn, The Pelican. We say we are the menservants of the princess. She has just arrived in the country, and we demand the best rooms and a private parlor. Once in our rooms, we take off our disguises and put on our best clothes, and you, my dear, drape yourself in some of the showiest of the jewels. We stay two nights and then begin our journey to London-a slow, triumphal progress. By the time we arrive, everyone will know of our coming. Also, everyone will know that the princess did not come with money but with a great quantity of jewels, which she will trade from time to time.”
“I feel sick,” said Felicity dismally. “What if I am exposed as a fraud? I shall leave my head on a chopping block at the Tower.”
“Now, that is only for impersonating an English peer or pretending to be any member of the English aristocracy,” said Miss Chubb comfortably. “The only way you could face prosecution is by using a fake title to get money out of people, which of course you will not do.”
“I don't like it,” murmured Felicity. “Good heavens! Lord Arthur Bessamy and his friend, Mr. Godolphin. What if I should meet them? They will recognize me.”
“You just stare at them haughtily and ask them why they are insulting you by suggesting you might be some country girl. Besides, the whole county will know of our deaths tomorrow. By the time the Season has begun, everyone will have forgotten about us-even Lord Arthur.”
“But Lord Arthur struck me as being clever. I am sure he will know there is no such place as Brasnia.”
“Nonsense! I assure you the English aristocracy cannot even point out on the globe the places they visited during the Grand Tour.”
“But what…?”
