Book Fair Frenzy (Or, Macalley Turns the Page) Read online

  “Very good, madame.” Macalley climbed into the motorcar and drove off.

  “And what will you be doing to help, Alice?” Mabel asked.

  I sat down next to her. “Staying with you,” I said as I laid a hand on my old friend’s. “I could never abandon you at a moment like this.” Mabel’s tears flowed again, but she was still smiling as she laid her other hand atop mine and squeezed it tight.

  ***

  The book fair reopened, and the first customers rushed to our tables. I told them that there had been an issue with our carriage, without explaining that the issue was that someone had run off with it, and that we would have the books here shortly, which I chose to regard as “optimism” and not “filthy lies”.

  It was, unfortunately, not long before word started to spread. Mabel had stepped aside to speak with Thurston, and I was watching the tables for her, when Bludergard decided to pay a visit. He slunk through the crowd like a dog trying not to get caught snaring the fallen and overlooked drumstick at chicken dinner. “What ho!” he said as he approached.

  “What ho, indeed,” I said with all the diffidence I could muster.

  “You seem to be quite short on books, Peavley!”

  “As observant as ever.”

  “You know…” Bludergard set one hand on the table and leaned towards me. “Feel free to send customers my way if you wish. We wouldn’t want them to leave the book fair empty handed.”

  I resisted the urge to tell him that leaving empty handed would be preferable to taking one of his books with them. “We’ll have our stock here soon,” I said calmly.

  “Of course, but—”

  I looked past him, towards his table. “Oh dear,” I said. “A customer eyeing your books, and you’re not there to assist him.”

  Bludergard jumped as if someone had slammed a door next to his ear. He spun and ran back to his table, buttonholing the man who had wandered over there.

  Priscilla gave him an extended glance as she walked past. “He wasn’t trying to sell you one of his books, I hope,” she said as she sat down next to me.

  “He gave me one as a gift,” I answered, “and I still want my money back.”

  “I actually made it halfway through one of his. ‘The Horse I Rode In On’.”

  “You poor thing.”

  Priscilla winced at the memory as if I had stepped on her foot. “I had to give up when I got to Chapter 47. The hero was fighting off a small army with one hand while entertaining orphans with a puppet show with the other.”

  I nodded sympathetically. “Did you find out anything new from the constables?”

  “I did. Matterhorn says that the horses that pulled the carriage were still at the public stable Mabel had booked for them.”

  “So someone used their own horses to make away with Mabel’s carriage and books.”

  “The force is already searching the town, but it could take all day,” Priscilla said sadly.

  I forced myself not to pout. “And if the carriage isn’t found by the time the fair is over, all those sales would be lost. I just hope Macalley has a trick up his sleeve.”

  “He always does. So what happened to Bludergard’s customer?”

  “He’s already fled. I do believe he was just trying to get directions to the public privy.”

  Priscilla smiled. “What ho!”

  “Indeed.”

  ***

  Mabel and Macalley returned almost at the same time, so I left Mabel with Priscilla and took Macalley aside. “I take it you had no luck?” I said.

  “I fear that is the case, madame. Even with the mud, there were just too many tracks to follow.”

  “Blast.” I scowled. “What can we do?”

  “Perhaps Madame Mabel can take payment from her customers and dispatch the books by post once they’re found.”

  “She could, but the extra expense would put her in a deep financial hole. And she had rented the carriage and horses for the weekend.”

  “A grave loss, then.”

  “I still wonder how the devil a carriage just disappears?”

  “Perhaps it sunk in the mud—”

  I glanced at Mabel’s table and held up a hand. “We’ll need to come back to that.”

  Oakton had returned, and his sneering smile was even more repulsive. He had Mabel’s rare books all stacked in front of him, his hand firmly on top. “What a horrid shame,” he said in a voice that oozed with so much insincerity one could sop it up in a sponge. “Your stock is almost all gone.”

  “Just like I wish you’d be,” I hissed under my breath. Priscilla hurried over to me and took my arm.

  “I’m sure it’ll show up soon,” Mabel said meekly.

  “Not soon enough to save your day. Or your book shop.” Oakton tapped the rare books. “But I’ll still give you 150 crowns for these. That’ll help, won’t it?”

  “But you offered 200 crowns yesterday.”

  “I know a bargain when I see one.”

  I glared at Oakton. “She’s not interested,” I said firmly. “She rejected your higher offer already. She knows better than to take the lower one.”

  “It seems,” Oakton said with a smile that he apparently had to wrestle onto his face with a crowbar, “that you are the one who rejected the offer, not her.” He turned his smile on Mabel. “How about it, Blissbottom?” he said.

  Mabel swallowed and glanced at me. I tried to keep my face calm, though I wondered myself if this was the right thing. It was a long moment before she said, “I’m afraid I’ll have to take a pass. I think I might be able to get better for these.”

  Oakton dropped the smile at last. “You’re a damned fool, Blissbottom. I hope your store rots—”

  Something in me snapped. I shook off Priscilla’s hand and ran towards Oakton. “Quiet!” I shouted. “You are not welcome at this table!”

  He drew himself up to his full height. Anger creased his brow. “You be quiet, you spoiled, impertinent little dilettante,” he said.

  My ire only grew further. “How dare you!” I said. “Retract those words at once, or—”

  “Or what?” Oakton chuckled. “You’ll challenge me?”

  “That I will.”

  The words spilled from my mouth before I realized they were coming out. Time froze like water pipes in January. Every eye in the square was on us. Mabel covered her mouth with her hands.

  Oakton laughed. “So it’ll be a duel, then? With what weapons?”

  “Weapons?” I echoed faintly.

  “Rapiers are the weapon of choice, but I have a fondness for daggers.” His sudden grin was savage. “We shall have to bind our left wrists together, of course. It’s the tradition.”

  “Of course. Tradition.” It was my turn to force a smile as Priscilla grabbed my arm. “A moment, please.” She pulled me away and hurried off, Macalley close behind.

  ***

  “What the devil were you thinking!” Priscilla snapped.

  “I wasn’t expecting Oakton to do that.” I stared at the ground.

  “The last time you held a sword was at Duchess Avilla’s costume ball five years back.” She glanced at Macalley. “That’s when Mabel, Alice and I went as the Three Musketeers.”

  “I always thought there were four,” Macalley murmured.

  “But it’s ‘Three’ in the title,” I countered.

  “Alice!” Priscilla said. “You didn’t even know how to use a sword then! You almost sliced the Duchess in half!”

  “Priscilla—”

  “You don’t stand the faintest of chances against Oakton! Why did you challenge him?”

  I flushed redder than the wine we had drunk last night. “Because I couldn’t let him bully Mabel.”

  “So you’ll let him chop you up like prime rib instead?” Priscilla sighed. “My dear foolish Alice. Whatever shall be done with you?”

  Ever so faintly, Macalley coughed. “If I may…I believe I have a solution that will satisfy honor without resulting in any of us attending a
funeral.”

  “If it means I can avoid a sad and bloody demise,” I said to him, “I’m very much all ears.” Priscilla nodded.

  “Very well. Madame Alice, are you familiar with...tea dueling?”

  ***

  Oakton’s snarl would have frightened a pack of guard dogs. “Tea dueling?” he snapped.

  “I thought we’d try something a little less gruesome than a knife fight.” I grinned an overdone grin.

  “That is not how I wish to settle this dispute!”

  “Master Basil?” The elf turned towards Macalley. “While I can see your position, I think that someone of your stature would understand that the sight of one of Darbyfield’s citizens hacked to bits would spoil a fine day at the fair.”

  Oakton scratched his bearded chin. “You do have a valid point, gnome. Perhaps we can...raise the stakes.”

  “In what way?”

  “If I win the duel…” Oakton smiled and sneered. “Blissbottom will have to sell me her stock of rare books for 150 crowns.”

  “That hardly seems fair, sir.”

  “You noticed—” I stopped mid-sentence as an idea dashed into my mind. “And if I win,” I said, “you will give Mabel that 150 crowns to pay for books to donate to the Darbyfield Library.”

  Mabel smiled and clapped her hands. “And I’ll add to that once my carriage is found!”

  Oakton made a great show of rolling his eyes and sighing. “Very well, then. When does this duel begin?”

  “I can have this arranged shortly,” Macalley said. “Say, in 45 minutes?”

  “You can get it set up that quickly?”

  “It just so happens that I lunched yesterday with the most respected tiffin mistress in all of tea dueling.”

  ***

  I had not had the pleasure of meeting Lady Sylvetta Travers until that day, and I quickly regretted that it had taken so long. “What a delightful surprise to meet you, my dear!” she said to me as we shook hands.

  “The pleasure’s mine,” I said.

  “And, I must add, I do like your hat!”

  I had chosen an old favorite, a tan cloche with a wide brown band. “Why, thank you!” I said. “Yours is quite impressive as well!” And it was; Sylvetta wore a tall black top hat with red trim that went well with her ruffled red and black dress.

  “Thank you, Alice!” She paused, and I saw a sadness in her eyes. “I am so sorry to hear about your uncle Clarence,” she said gently. “I did not get to know him well, but he was always so kind and thoughtful when we met. Such a good man, such a great loss.”

  I smiled and forced myself not to start bawling. “Thank you,” I said.

  “And Lord Basil!” Sylvetta said to the elf. “I haven’t seen you since that ball you hosted some years back!”

  “Ah, my dear Sylvetta.” Oakton kissed her hand. “You are as charming and lovely as ever.”

  Priscilla pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “Compared to him,” she muttered, “a basilisk is charming.” I was in complete agreement, but I still quietly shushed her.

  “Such a flatterer.” Sylvetta smiled in a way that everyone except Oakton could tell was politely forced. “My assistant Nadila will have a table and all the needed material here shortly. While the preparations are under way, I shall go over the rules of tea dueling with Madame Alice.”

  Oakton nodded. “We’ll be waiting.”

  “Of course. We shall not dog it, then. But before you go, Macalley had mentioned...a wager?”

  “Indeed.” Oakton produced a small, stuffed purse and handed it to Sylvetta. She waited until he had turned and left before she tucked it away in her bodice.

  “Madame?” I saw that Macalley was tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I fear that I may have to miss the duel.”

  “Macalley!” I reeled from the shock. “What on Earth!”

  “I understand that you could use the moral support…but I think I may have possibly solved the mystery of how to find Madame Mabel’s missing carriage.”

  My heart leapt even higher than my eyebrows at the news. “You have my blessing, then.”

  “I shall also require certain liberties with the motorcar.”

  “Have at it!”

  “Very good, madame.” He bowed and set off.

  ***

  Lady Sylvetta had connections with a tea house near the town square, and soon the stage was set. There was a round table with two chairs, facing each other, and a smaller table nearby with a freshly-brewed pot of tea at the ready. Each chair had a cup and saucer set in front of it, with a sugar jar and a jug of milk in the center, and a plate covered with a napkin to one side. Sylvetta was standing by the small table, checking on the tea and consulting with Nadila. Her assistant was a sprite, lean and tall, in a stylish striped black waistcoat.

  I took a seat at the table. Priscilla, who had been appointed as my second should something dreadful such as my choking on a biscuit would occur, was standing nearby. “So how does this work?” Priscilla asked. “Do we get to pour the tea on Oakton’s fat head?”

  “I would dissuade that in the strongest terms,” Sylvetta said as she joined us. “Tea dueling should be conducted in an honorable manner at all times.”

  “Honor and Oakton are quite the unlikely match.”

  “Priscilla,” I said nervously as Oakton approached, “perhaps we can save the insults for another time.”

  “Sound advice,” Sylvetta said. “Ah, Lord Basil! Are you ready for the duel?”

  “I am,” Oakton said as he pulled out his chair. “In fact, I look forward to defending my undefeated record against humans.”

  “You are?” I said faintly.

  “Yes!” Sylvetta smiled. “I remember your great success versus Master Tomlinson and his extended family some months back.”

  “You do?”

  “I shall enjoy this.” Oakton smiled at me with a cruelness I’d never associated with tea and biscuits before. Hillsboro, who was serving as his second, snickered faintly.

  Sylvetta glanced about and smiled. “My goodness. We’ve attracted quite a crowd.”

  I snapped out of my reverie and tried not to gasp. It seemed that almost the entire population of Darbyfield and its surroundings had gathered in the square and were watching us intently. “I didn’t think that many people would have cared about this,” I mumbled.

  “They might be bored,” Priscilla said. “It’s been quiet here since the Fotheringays sobered up.”

  “Shall we begin?” Sylvetta said.

  “We should,” Oakton said. I nodded nervously.

  “Very well.” Lady Sylvetta lifted her head and addressed the crowd, with a voice that brought all the idle chatter and side-wagering discussion to a halt. “I bid you all a good morning, ladies and gentlemen! We have gathered to settle a matter of honor, in a peaceful way, between these two duelists. First, the challenger, Lord Basil Oakton!” He raised his hand to acknowledge the faint applause. “And his opponent, Alice Peavley of Peavley Manor!” I waved, and smiled at the somewhat louder applause, led by Priscilla.

  I glanced into the crowd, and past it. Mabel was standing at her tables, one eye on her rare books and one on me. She caught my gaze and smiled weakly. “Best of luck, Alice,” she whispered.

  “For those of you who are unfamiliar with the fine art of tea dueling,” Sylvetta continued, “I shall conduct a demonstration!” As she spoke, Nadila came over with a freshly-poured cup of tea, setting it down in front of her.

  She brandished a chocolate cream biscuit. “Each of our duelists will have a biscuit!” she said. “To start the duel, I will command them to hold the biscuit like so.” She held it between thumb and forefinger and continued, “I will count down, and both duelists will dunk their biscuits in their tea, and hold them for the count of five, like so!” She pointed the biscuit straight down at the tea cup and said, “One! Two! Dunk!”

  She plunged the biscuit into the tea. “One! Two! Three! Four! Five!” As she finished, she lifted the biscuit up,
holding it where everyone could see where it had absorbed the tea. “Now, you wait. At some point your biscuit, or your opponent’s, will begin to crumble. When that happens, the duelist with the intact biscuit must eat theirs cleanly. If they do so, they win the duel; if the biscuit breaks before then, the duel is declared a draw. Alternatively, one may avoid the mess and embarrassment caused by a collapsing biscuit by eating it before it can crumble. Should this occur, the duelist who eats their biscuit last, without it breaking, wins the duel.” She punctuated this by eating her biscuit.

  When she had finished chewing and swallowing, Sylvetta continued, “Normally, a tea duel is a single round, but in light of Madame Peavley’s inexperience, all parties involved have agreed that this duel shall be best two out of three rounds. Are we ready?”

  “I am always prepared.” Oakton smiled. “Are you, Peavley?”

  I folded my arms with phony nonchalance, for in fact, I was feeling very chalancy. “I am ready,” I said.

  “Excellent!” Sylvetta beamed. “Stand and shake hands!”

  With a faint sigh, Oakton got to his feet and extended a hand. I jumped up and shook his hand firmly. I would not let myself be intimidated by him, no matter how worried I was, when so much was at stake for dear Mabel. Thus, I made sure to loudly wish him good luck. His mumbled reply was either “The same to you” or “Go soak your head,” I couldn’t tell which.

  “Prepare the tea!” Lady Sylvetta exclaimed as we sat down. Nadila poured the tea, filling our cups up to the same level. I added a splash of milk and a generous amount of sugar to mine, as always; Oakton left his as it was. As I replaced the lid on the sugar jar, Sylvetta yanked the napkin off the plate in front of her. “Choose your biscuit!” she said.

  There were six identical rectangular biscuits on the plate. I recognized them as being dwarfish butter biscuits, thick and somewhat crunchy. I selected the one closest to me, and Oakton did the same. We took the biscuits between thumb and forefinger and pointed them downward at our cups of tea. I did my best to convince my hand not to tremble.