his lips as he thought of something. “Have to say I’m not too keen on redheads after what Martha did to me, but I’m prepared to make exceptions.” He had a dreamy look on his face.
“So you like her more than Elliott?” Will teased.
“I . . . er . . .” Chester stalled in embarrassment.
Will was looking at his friend with surprise. He hadn’t meant the comment to be taken seriously.
“Well, it’s not as if we see much of Elliott these days, is it?” Chester blustered. “She’s always in her room, taking endless baths and doing her nails and all that girl stuff.”
Will nodded. “She told me her back was hurting her . . . that her shoulders ached all the time.”
“Maybe it’s that, then, and she’s just under the weather,” Chester surmised. “But she’s not at all like she used to be. It’s like she’s gone soft or something.”
“True,” Will agreed. “Since we’ve been here, she’s changed so much. I’m really quite worried about her.”
As the rain continued to hammer down and they jogged the last mile to the house, Will and Chester were joined by Bartleby and Colly, the two huge Hunters.
“Got ourselves a big cat escort,” Chester laughed as the animals positioned themselves on either side of him and Will. Their heads held high, the Hunters were loping along with steady, easy strides, as if showing off that the pace was nothing to them. In response, Will and Chester sped up, but the Hunters did likewise.
“We’ll never beat them.” Will chuckled, out of breath, as the four of them reached the house. They thundered up the steps of the main entrance and crashed through the doors into the hall. Parry appeared almost immediately.
“Shoes off, boys, eh,” he urged them, seeing that they had already tracked mud across the black-and-white marble floor. “And look at the state of those two mangy animals.” He glowered at the cats, their bald skin streaked with dirt. “They’re polishing off all the grouse on the estate. Soon, there won’t be a single blessed bird left,” Parry added resentfully. The tough old man with his wayward hair and shaggy beard was wearing a kitchen apron over his tweed suit trousers, and in his hand was a sheaf of papers — it was a printout of some kind. “You’ve both been gone longer than I expected,” he noted, glancing at the grandfather clock.
The boys stood there mutely, wondering if they should say something about the encounter with Old Wilkie and his granddaughter. But they didn’t and Parry spoke again, “Well, I’m pleased you’re taking your training seriously. I expect you could do with some food now?”
Both Will and Chester nodded eagerly.
“Thought so. I’ve left some soup on the hob and there’s a fresh loaf to go with it. Sorry there isn’t more, but I’m rather busy at the moment. There’s something going on.”
Opening the door to his study, Parry hurried inside. But before the door slammed shut, the boys caught their first glimpse of the interior.
“Was that your dad in there?” Will asked. Before the door closed, the boys had spotted Mr. Rawls standing over what appeared to be an old-fashioned printer from the loud clattering it was making.
“Yes, I saw him, too. I thought the study was off-limits to all of us,” Chester replied. He shrugged, then knelt down to remove his plimsolls. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen much of Dad lately — maybe he’s been in there all the time?”
“And I wonder what Parry was talking about. Do you think it’s you-know-who up to their tricks again?” Will posed. It had been several months since the attack on the financial district in the City of London and the explosions in the West End, but then the Styx seemed not to have continued with their offensive against Topsoilers.
“If there’s anything going on, it’ll be on the news. Let’s grab our food and eat it in front of the TV,” Chester suggested.
“Sounds like a plan,” Will said.
Due to the
“So you like her more than Elliott?” Will teased.
“I . . . er . . .” Chester stalled in embarrassment.
Will was looking at his friend with surprise. He hadn’t meant the comment to be taken seriously.
“Well, it’s not as if we see much of Elliott these days, is it?” Chester blustered. “She’s always in her room, taking endless baths and doing her nails and all that girl stuff.”
Will nodded. “She told me her back was hurting her . . . that her shoulders ached all the time.”
“Maybe it’s that, then, and she’s just under the weather,” Chester surmised. “But she’s not at all like she used to be. It’s like she’s gone soft or something.”
“True,” Will agreed. “Since we’ve been here, she’s changed so much. I’m really quite worried about her.”
As the rain continued to hammer down and they jogged the last mile to the house, Will and Chester were joined by Bartleby and Colly, the two huge Hunters.
“Got ourselves a big cat escort,” Chester laughed as the animals positioned themselves on either side of him and Will. Their heads held high, the Hunters were loping along with steady, easy strides, as if showing off that the pace was nothing to them. In response, Will and Chester sped up, but the Hunters did likewise.
“We’ll never beat them.” Will chuckled, out of breath, as the four of them reached the house. They thundered up the steps of the main entrance and crashed through the doors into the hall. Parry appeared almost immediately.
“Shoes off, boys, eh,” he urged them, seeing that they had already tracked mud across the black-and-white marble floor. “And look at the state of those two mangy animals.” He glowered at the cats, their bald skin streaked with dirt. “They’re polishing off all the grouse on the estate. Soon, there won’t be a single blessed bird left,” Parry added resentfully. The tough old man with his wayward hair and shaggy beard was wearing a kitchen apron over his tweed suit trousers, and in his hand was a sheaf of papers — it was a printout of some kind. “You’ve both been gone longer than I expected,” he noted, glancing at the grandfather clock.
The boys stood there mutely, wondering if they should say something about the encounter with Old Wilkie and his granddaughter. But they didn’t and Parry spoke again, “Well, I’m pleased you’re taking your training seriously. I expect you could do with some food now?”
Both Will and Chester nodded eagerly.
“Thought so. I’ve left some soup on the hob and there’s a fresh loaf to go with it. Sorry there isn’t more, but I’m rather busy at the moment. There’s something going on.”
Opening the door to his study, Parry hurried inside. But before the door slammed shut, the boys caught their first glimpse of the interior.
“Was that your dad in there?” Will asked. Before the door closed, the boys had spotted Mr. Rawls standing over what appeared to be an old-fashioned printer from the loud clattering it was making.
“Yes, I saw him, too. I thought the study was off-limits to all of us,” Chester replied. He shrugged, then knelt down to remove his plimsolls. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen much of Dad lately — maybe he’s been in there all the time?”
“And I wonder what Parry was talking about. Do you think it’s you-know-who up to their tricks again?” Will posed. It had been several months since the attack on the financial district in the City of London and the explosions in the West End, but then the Styx seemed not to have continued with their offensive against Topsoilers.
“If there’s anything going on, it’ll be on the news. Let’s grab our food and eat it in front of the TV,” Chester suggested.
“Sounds like a plan,” Will said.
Due to the
Similar Books
Red Rose
Mary Balogh
Crying for Help
Casey Watson
Indulge
Megan Duncan
Prince of Legend
Jack Ludlow
Lucky Break
Liliana Rhodes
PrimevalPassion
Cyna Kade
A red tainted Silence
Carolyn Gray
Nighttime at Willow Bay
Kasey Moone
Fencing You In
Cheyenne McCray