Broom with a View (26 page)

“There you are, Violet,” Lady Wilberforce called, coming in from the stables and catching the girl on the stairs while she stood in the middle of the entrance hall. “Cyril said you were feeling a little tired, but I don’t think he made clear that your presence is needed in the stables without delay.”

Violet froze for a moment midstep. She really hadn’t anticipated what she would do if she encountered Cyril or his mother. Taking a deep breath, she continued down the stairs. “I’m sorry, Lady Wilberforce,” she said. “I need to step out for a moment.” She tried to breeze past the older woman.

“There’s nothing you could possibly need to do that can’t wait,” she was told. “When I ask for your assistance, I expect you to comply. After all, I don’t ask for much. It really is the least you can do.” Lady Wilberforce moved directly in front of the girl, blocking her path.

“You want me to assist you?” Violet was incredulous.

Lady Wilberforce gave a small frown. “Yes. Didn’t Cyril tell you? I’m sure it will only take a minute.”

Letting out a bitter laugh, the girl replied, “Lady Wilberforce, I have just received some news that sets me in mind to never assist you with anything ever again.”

“Whatever are you talking about?” the lady asked, her frown deepening. “Why are you being so insolent?”

“I do not help war mongers,” Violet said in a voice much louder than she’d intended.

Lady Wilberforce narrowed her eyes, staring at Violet for a few seconds. “Who have you been talking to?”

“No one,” Violet insisted, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from glancing in the direction of the parlour and Lady Wilberforce’s writing desk.

Interpreting the glance, the lady abruptly turned and shouted. “Cyril, get in here this instant. I need you immediately!”

“What the devil is going on?” Cyril said, rushing in the door and hurrying over to his mother. “Is everything all right?”

“No, everything's not al
l right,” his mother informed him. “You’re fiancée is being quite untenable. She flat out refuses to help me.”

“Is that true, Violet?” Cyril asked. “Has something upset you?”

“Do you have any idea what your mother and Professor Yog have been up to?” Violet demanded.

“Well,” the young man stammered. “I have some idea. I mean to say… My mother is still married in the eyes of the law, I suppose, but my father has been gone an awfully long time. I really don’t blame her for seeking some sort of companionship. Do you?”

“Cyril, that is not what I’m talking about,” Violet said, practically shouting at him. “How can you be so naive?” she asked, forgetting that the wool had been pulled from her eyes a mere hour earlier that day.

Cyril appeared a bit bewildered. Then, lifting his chin, he said, “Darling, between the two of us, I hardly think anyone would say that I’m the one who is naive.”

“Cyril!” Violet snapped. “I do not want…” her words faded on her lips. “I mean to say that I no longer wish…” She again found that she couldn’t continue.

“What is it, darling?” Mr. Wilberforce asked, stepping
forwards and reaching for her hand.

“It’s just,” she stammered, desperately wanting to tell him she was breaking their engagement but finding it absolutely impossible.

“She’s just overtired and needs to lie down,” Lady Wilberforce said, grabbing the girl by the arm.

“I am not overtired,” Violet stated, yanking herself free. She realized she was trapped and could not summon the words to her lips that would break her engagement to Mr. Wilberforce, but she could tell him what she’d discovered about his mother. “Cyril, do you know how your mother makes money?” she asked.

“Don’t you dare!” Lady Wilberforce commanded. Then, turning to her son, she said, “I do not wish to listen to your fiancée, Cyril. She is being incredibly foolish, and she needs to lie down. Tell her to go upstairs.”

“Now wait a minute, Mother,” Cyril said. “You’re both getting overexcited. But Violet obviously has something she wishes to share
, and I think we should listen to her.”

“Your mother is a war profiteer,” Violet blurted. “She and Professor Yog have been causing all the conflict between the Witches and the Vampires.”

“Silence!” Lady Wilberforce shouted. “You will not speak!”

“You cannot stop me,” Violet countered. She knew the only power Lady Wilberforce had over her was the power she wielded through her son.

Cyril was at a loss as to how to handle the situation. “Now, I think everyone is a bit overexcited,” he repeated. “Perhaps I should just ring for some tea and that will be soothing? Shall I?” he asked, moving towards the bell to signal a servant.

“Stay away from that bell!” his mother commanded. “I know a better person to call.” Lady Wilberforce always wore a large, pigeon
’s blood ruby ring on her right hand. Violet had noticed it almost from the moment of their meeting. Now the lady unfastened an invisible clasp on the side of the ring and flipped up the stone, which was somehow on a hinge. Beneath it was set a moonstone. Lady Wilberforce pressed the stone and, with a loud poof and a fizzle of lights, Professor Yog appeared holding his walking staff that had the ruby orb embedded at the tip.

Chapter 25: Calling on Friends

“Why have you summoned me?” the old Warlock asked, appearing more annoyed than surprised.

“Miss Popplewell has suddenly grown too big for her boots,” Lady Wilberforce informed him. “She seems to think she knows everything about what goes on between you and me
, and she’s determined to leave the house this instant even though I’ve forbidden it.”

“I will leave the house,” Violet said, her hand clenched around the wand in her pocket, although she didn’t dare unsheathe her weapon. She was not about to be intimidated by some cranky old professor and the likes of Lady Wilberforce. “I wish to go stay with my aunt,” she informed them. And then
she found her lips forming the words, “Until the wedding.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the professor snarled. “Be a smart little girl and just stay here. You’d be better served to do as you’re told.”

“You can’t leave,” Cyril said, the words bursting from his mouth with true emotion. “I don’t understand what’s come over you.”

“I will leave,” Violet told all of them. But try as she might, she found she could not walk towards the door. Surprised, she looked at her fiancé. “Cyril, please. Let me go.”

“But why?” he asked. “Just because Mother has done something silly.”

“That’s not the only reason,” she told him. “There are so many reasons. I wish I could explain them to you, but I can’t.” Violet marvelled at the magic of Mortals. She understood that she could not speak to end her engagement to Cyril, but apparently she could also do nothing to physically leave him. It pained the girl to again realize that the best thing she could have done was listen to her Aunt Vera.

“If she really does know our plans,” Professor Yog said, glowering at the girl but speaking to Lady Wilberforce, “then we’ll have to do a lot more than just keep her confined.”

“What do you mean?” Cyril asked Professor Yog, looking a bit alarmed. “What more are you speaking of?”

“Be quiet, boy,” the old man croaked, his eyes glittering with malice.

An idea occurred to Miss Popplewell. It was true it was impossible for her to leave the house as long as she was still bound to Cyril, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t call someone to her aid. Mr. B was the most powerful Warlock in Violet’s circle of acquaintance and, as High Sorcerer of Surrey, he carried some weight in the Crafter community. Closing her eyes, her hand still clenching her wand, she whispered an emergency summoning spell.

“Stop her,” Professor Yog shouted, realizing what she was doing but only when it was too late.

Back in Surrey, the High Sorcerer was just having a heart to heart chat with Sebastian Du Monde and his father. Sebastian was determined that they should give up their recently rented cottage and quit the
neighbourhood at once, but the count was tired of always packing and unpacking. What he really wanted to do was lie in his coffin and have a nice long rest.

“Can’t you make him explain himself?” the old Vampire was asking Mr. B, his voice filled with distress. “I know there’s been Vampire trouble in the
neighbourhood, but it’s not like we had anything to do with it. I’ve asked him again and again why he insists we must go, but he’ll tell me nothing, and I can’t make out what has upset him so.”

“Wait a minute,” Mr. B said, holding up his hand to interrupt the conversation as Violet’s distress signal reached his ears. Looking at Sebastian, he said, “Miss Popplewell is in trouble. She’s calling me for help.”

“Where is she?” Sebastian demanded. “What’s happened to her?”

“She’s at her fiancé’s house in town,” was Mr. B’s reply. “I’m not sure what has happened, but I can tell she’s very upset.” Turning back to the Count Du Monde, he added, “I’m afraid we’ll have to finish this conversation at a later time. I have to go.” Even as the last words were leaving his lips, a cloud of smoke started filling the room
, and the Sorcerer began fading from view. Another few seconds and he was gone completely.

“Well, what do you think that was all about?” Count Du Monde asked with some dismay.

Sebastian did not take the time to answer his father. Instead, he ran for the door, burst outside, and leapt into the air, his wings springing from his back. In another second, he was gone from view.

Mr. Beelzebub materialized in the Wilberforce’s entrance hall only seconds after Violet had summoned him. “Please excuse me for just barging in,” he said, shaking the smoke from his arrival off his suit. “I received a distress call from Miss Popplewell.” Turning to the girl, he said, “Now, please tell me, what is upsetting you?”

“Look out!” Violet shouted, shoving the Sorcerer out of the way as a fireball blasted past his head.

“Watch the drapes!” Lady Wilberforce call
ed from a corner of the room.

Whirling around to know who was attacking him, Mr. B was shocked to see his old friend Professor Yog vigorously wielding his walking staff with the red stone like it was Excalibur. The large gem glowed like the eye of a demonic bird. “Eggbert?” the Sorcerer exclaimed. “What in the worlds are you doing?”

Instead of answering, the professor slammed the end of his staff into the ground and another fireball barrelled towards Mr. B. He flattened himself to the ground just in time, the molten hot ball of flame missing him by inches and burying itself in the cushions of a purple velvet love seat.

“I said watch the furnishings!” Lady Wilberforce snapped. “Violet, put that out at once.”

Violet was about to protest that she would do no such thing, but then Cyril turned to her and said, “Yes, please be a love and extinguish the sofa. We really don’t want the whole house going up in flames.”

“Yes, wouldn’t that be horrible if your family home was burnt to the timbers around you?” Violet groused, but she found herself snuffing the fire nonetheless.

Mr. B scrambled to his feet, plunging across the room forming his hands like he was packing a snowball as he ran. “Eggie, old boy,” he called “What’s all this nonsense about?” The next time Professor Yog let loose with a blast of lava, Mr. B countered the fire with a ball of ice causing an explosion of slush to splatter the walls and knocking the Sorcerer to his knees.

“You stupid child! Why did you summon him?”
The professor all but spat at Violet as he flicked some ice from his sleeve. “Do you really think I enjoy killing old friends?”

“Well then
, why don’t you stop trying to kill him?” Violet suggested as she dashed over to assist Mr. B to his feet.

“Yes, Professor,” Cyril had to agree. “I’m not sure what this is all about, but I’m sure there’s really no reason to get your back up.”

“Be quiet.” His mother shushed him. “Just do as you’re told.”

“Yes, mother,” Cyril said, immediately cowed. “Don’t I always?” he added a bit sullenly.

Professor Yog released another blast from his staff, but instead of directing it at his friend the High Sorcerer, he aimed it at a massive marble statue that was just to Mr. B’s left. The sculpture burst into pieces, raining down huge chunks of rock on Violet and the Sorcerer. Mr. B was knocked to the ground, landing on top of the girl but also shielding her with his body.

“That statue was Italian,” Lady Wilberforce said, cringing over the rubble.

“I’ll make you a new one,” the professor said, waving off her distress.

“Good Lord, I think you’ve killed him,” Cyril exclaimed, taking a few steps
forwards to get a better look at Mr. B’s bleeding forehead.

“That was the plan,” Professor Yog assured him. “I’m sure he’s not dead yet, but he will be once we burn his body.”

Violet was pinned under Mr. B; she could barely move, let alone get to her feet. “Why?” she asked the Warlock. “Why do this? Does money really mean that much to you?”

“Don’t be a simpleton,” the professor sneered. “This isn’t about money. It’s never been about money.”