Hunter's Moon (3 page)

I laughed. ‘You wouldn't dare!'

‘No, I'm the most terrible coward there ever was.' She gave me another of those darting smiles. ‘Are you hungry?'

I looked at her. ‘Actually,' I whispered, ‘I am ravenous, but don't tell anyone!'

‘I won't if you don't tell anyone I plan to eat a whole plate of meringues and cream,' she retorted, making me laugh again.

‘I promise it will remain our secret,' I said.

To my relief, no-one attempted to waylay us as we scurried off to the refreshment room and piled plates high with everything we could find. After we'd taken a piece of everything we wanted, we went looking for a quiet, private room where we could devour our food in peace. We found a little antechamber with a table and chairs which did us very well. By that time, my new friend had learnt my name and I hers.

‘Emilia Sophia Jemans, in full,' she declared, rather indistinctly through a mouthful of meringue. ‘Not “Lady”, like you – I'm just a merchant's daughter.'

‘You could say that my father's a merchant, too –' I began, but she shook her head.

‘No, he is in quite a different league to us,' she said. ‘My father's a wool merchant – a good one – but no-one would call him the King of Elegance! Jemans' Wool – that's us.'

‘Oh,' I said, lamely. ‘I'm … I'm sure I've heard of it.' Belladonna had told me that even when you had never heard of something, it was best not to display ignorance.

Emilia giggled. ‘I'm sure you have. Anyway, never mind about dull business. Tell me about yourself. Do you have brothers? Sisters? I have two of each, all older, married, and tiresomely sensible, too. Are you sensible?'

I stared at her. ‘I … I'm not sure.'

‘Then you probably aren't. Which is a good thing, because sensible people never have adventures. And I plan to have lots. Don't you?'

‘Er …'

‘I plan to travel the world visiting strange and exotic places, write about them and become a really famous travel writer. You have to have lots of adventures if you want to become a famous travel writer. Don't you agree?'

I smiled. ‘Yes. I suppose I do.'

‘Come on – have another meringue,' she said, pushing an extra one on my plate. ‘You know, when I was little, I wanted to be a lion tamer, and I even practised it –'

I was a little dazed by this sudden turn in the conversation. ‘How?' I said faintly.

‘With the household cat, of course,' she said, grinning. ‘But he didn't really get into his role as a lion, so I decided I'd be a train driver instead.'

‘A train driver?' I repeated.

‘That didn't last long, because I soon discovered that train drivers have to follow the same route all the time – they can't take the train somewhere different, just for a change.'

‘No, I can imagine that might be a bit puzzling for passengers,' I said. I was really enjoying myself and liking Emilia more by the minute. ‘What did you decide on after that?'

‘To be a magician,' she said promptly. ‘But then I worked out that if you have no natural magical talent – and I don't – then you have to sit for years alone in dingy rooms learning lots of boring spells before you can get good at it. So I concluded that I'd leave that to people who like being alone in dingy rooms.'

‘A fair conclusion,' I said, mock-solemnly, popping a tiny savoury pie into my mouth.

‘Yes. And that's when I decided on my present ambition – to be a famous travel writer! But enough from me,' Emilia declared. ‘What about you? What's your dream?'

‘My dream?' I looked at her. A funny fluttering begun in my heart. ‘I … I don't have one.'

‘That can't be so,' she said, stopping her chewing to look at me, curiously. ‘Everyone has a dream. Some people's dreams are more like nightmares, though – nightmares for other people, that is, if those dreams are about power over others …

‘Come on, Bianca,' she went on, when I just stared at her. ‘People dream of many things – adventure, like me, or love, or power, or fame, or riches, or endless fun, or lots of children, or great talent, or, a pantry full of food, or … look, all kinds of things! What do you dream of?'

I swallowed. ‘I don't know.'

‘I don't believe it! If a feya came to you right now and said she'd grant you the dearest wish of your heart, what would you say? Come on,' she persisted, when I still sat silent. ‘Pretend I'm the feya.'

‘What?'

She put on a mysterious, dreamy voice. ‘I'm Nellia, the feya of the mountain spring, who grants wishes to all who come to her. Bianca Dalmatin, you have come to me with the dearest wish of your heart, and I will grant it as soon as you speak it. But you must speak it aloud –'

‘Don't,' I said, getting up.

‘Don't what?' She looked bewildered.

My hands were prickling; my throat felt tight. I did not want to explain to Emilia how I felt, as though icy water was trickling through my veins. All I could say was, ‘You shouldn't joke about those sorts of things.'

‘What sorts of things?'

‘The feya – Nellia – she's real, not just a story, and if you speak her name you might –' I broke off, for someone had just come into the room. It was Belladonna, and she did not look very pleased.

‘Bianca, I've been looking for you –' she began. Then she caught sight of the remains of our feast on the table and frowned. ‘What is this?'

‘We were hungry,' I said, uncertainly. ‘We … I remembered what you said about eating too much in front of others, so I thought we'd –'

‘Hide away,' finished Belladonna for me. She raised an eyebrow, sighed, then gave a little smile. ‘Very well. I don't always remember you are still a growing girl.' She looked at Emilia, who was uncharacteristically silent. Her cheeks were almost as red as her hair.

‘This is my friend Miss Emilia Jemans,' I said, shooting Emilia a comforting glance. ‘She has been very kind and helpful.'

‘In tracking down the best of the meringues, I see,' said Belladonna, her smile wider, and to my surprise, she picked one up and popped it into her mouth. ‘Mmm. Perfect.' She looked at Emilia. ‘So, Miss Jemans,
you have been looking after Bianca, and I thank you for that.'

‘Oh, it's … it's … it's nothing … I mean, it's a great pleasure, Lady Dalmatin,' gabbled Emilia, trying to drop to a curtsey but almost falling over her feet as she did so, her cheeks glowing even more scarlet.

Belladonna nodded. ‘But now I'm going to have to take Bianca away from your kind company, for she really must not skulk away and hide like a wallflower. For her own wellbeing, she must be seen to be mixing with the very best of society. Wouldn't you agree, Miss Jemans?'

‘Oh yes, of course,' said poor Emilia in some confusion, clearly not sure if Belladonna meant to ask her opinion or insult her.

I don't know if it was the misery in her face or the sting of Belladonna's words, but I found myself saying, ‘I'm not skulking, and I am mixing with the society I prefer – so there is really no need to be concerned about my well-being, Lady Mother.'

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wished them unsaid. But it was too late. Belladonna's eyes glittered and her lips were set in a thin line as she said, ‘You will kindly accompany me now, Bianca. Good evening to you, Miss Jemans.'

There was nothing I could do but send a glance of apology to Emilia, who sat down with her shoulders slumped and mouth downturned, and follow Belladonna. My rash words had almost certainly cost me this chance of friendship, for I knew Belladonna would not easily forget my impertinence.

Once we were out in the corridor, out of earshot, I expected her to round on me and give me a dressing-down. But she did nothing of the sort. Instead, she looked at me and gave a little sigh.

‘You are your own worst enemy, my poor Bianca,' she said. ‘When are you going to realise that you have responsibilities?'

I swallowed, thrown off by her sincerity. ‘I … I do realise.'

‘Really? Then what was that little tantrum about? And that nonsense I overheard you saying just as I arrived?'

I couldn't meet her eyes. Turning my head away, I began, ‘It wasn't …' but I couldn't finish.

She sighed again. ‘People in our position have to be careful. We can't just make friends with any stray cat. You understand that, don't you?'

I muttered, ‘Emilia isn't a stray cat.'

‘For heaven's sake, Bianca, stop this foolishness!' She halted, then gave me a smile. ‘Come, now, this is a special day. You need to dance. To be seen. Not to hide away.' She took my arm. ‘There. Let us go back into the ballroom together.'

But the moment we stepped back into the ballroom, Belladonna was claimed by friends and admirers and I was left to my own devices once more. I did not dare to leave the room again but I was too shy to speak to anyone – even more so because I was aware of sidelong glances being cast at me. To avoid the glances, I sat down on a chair against the wall and pretended that I was tired.

To tell the truth, I did feel tired. A heavy feeling had settled along my limbs and my head felt full of thick mist.
I did not want to think about what had just happened, or about my own strange reaction to Emilia's breezy questions. I did not understand it and it made me feel uneasy. Why couldn't I tell Emilia that my dream was to be like Belladonna? Why couldn't I say that I wished I was like my stepmother, who was so at ease in her own skin, so much herself, so much admired and loved by others? Beside her shining presence, I was a pale distant moon hidden behind mist. A superstitious child, frightened of shadows, who knew nothing of the world.

What did it mean, that I couldn't tell Emilia my dream? That I was ashamed of what was in my heart? That I was afraid Emilia would laugh at me? Emilia was not beautiful like Belladonna. She was not rich and famous, she was not sophisticated. But she was still so much herself. We could have been friends. And now …

‘May I have the pleasure of this dance with the loveliest lady at the ball?'

Startled, I looked up to see a tall young man of about my own age. Dressed in sober grey and white, he had a sharp-featured, handsome face with unusual colouring: olive skin, light-brown hair and amber-coloured eyes. I must have been staring for he smiled and repeated his question, making me blush and stammer, ‘Oh … I'm sorry … I … I'm a bit … tired, and I …'

‘Please dance with me,' he said, quietly. Our eyes met. Something gripped inside my chest. I was not used to the attentions of young men. And he was handsome. And kind. I knew I was not the loveliest lady at the ball, but it was nice of him to say so, so I found myself getting up, taking his hand, and following him onto the dance floor.

He danced supremely well, and very soon I forgot all about being tired and despondent, for dancing is something I love dearly.

As we danced, we talked a little, too. He told me his name was Lucian Montresor and that he came from a manor in the mountains.

‘You wouldn't have heard of it,' he said, smiling. ‘Hardly anyone has. It's nowhere near the mountain resorts, no train goes there, and it's about a day's ride from the nearest station.'

‘Oh,' I said, ‘that does sound remote!'

As the words left my mouth, I realised they sounded a bit banal but he quickly covered any embarrassment I might have felt by saying, ‘It is, but you know what? It's home. And I love it. The city – it's pleasant for a visit, but it's not really for me.' He looked at me. ‘But you'd feel differently, of course.'

Our eyes met again and I felt once more that gripping feeling in the chest as I answered, ‘I've always lived in Lepmest. It does not mean I would not like to see other places.'

‘Perhaps one day I could show you the mountains,' he said. ‘Have you heard of Nellia's Spring?'

A little shiver rippled down my spine. ‘Yes,' I managed to answer.

‘Our place is quite close to there,' he said. ‘It is a pretty, peaceful spot, perfect for a picnic.'

‘So I've heard,' I said, my scalp prickling with a mixture of awe and unease. Legend had it that to speak Nellia's name could bring unforeseen consequences. That's what I had been about to tell Emilia when Belladonna had
interrupted us. Could it be confirmation that something was coming?

Don't be a fool, I told myself. Don't believe stories meant for children. It's just coincidence, that's all.

‘Then when the weather is warmer,' he said, smiling, ‘we should think of it. What do you say?'

My heart pounded. ‘Why not?' I answered, trying to match his light tone.

And then the music stopped, and before I could step away from the dance floor, another young man asked me to dance. I would have said no and hovered to see if Lucian would ask me to dance again, but then I saw that Lucian was already taking the hand of another girl and I knew I had to play my part. Belladonna had told me that it was not done to dance too much with the same person because it made people talk. There were several reporters and photographers here tonight, of course, so I had to be careful not to attract the wrong sort of attention.

So I agreed to dance with the other young man, Alfons, who was pleasant enough, but nothing like Lucian. After that, I danced with another, and another, as for some reason I had become very popular, but all the while, I was hoping that Lucian might ask me again. He did not, though, and I saw him briefly just once after that: to my dismay, Belladonna had buttonholed him. She looked none too friendly, and I hoped she wasn't warning him off me, like she'd put off Emilia. I looked for him when the musicians and dancers took a break but I could not find him. He seemed to have vanished into thin air.

It was Emilia who gave me a clue as to what might have happened. I saw her at the back of the room, on
the very chair I'd been sitting on when Lucian had asked me to dance. I looked cautiously around for Belladonna. She was busy with friends, so I hurried over to Emilia and sat down next to her.

‘I'm sorry about before,' I said.

She looked at me. ‘It's all right. I understand.'

‘I'd like us to be friends. Is that … Is that still possible?'

Her face lit up. ‘Of course. But –'

‘But even though I love and admire her, my stepmother isn't right about everything,' I finished, neatly.

Emilia smiled. ‘I don't think anyone's right about everything, do you?'

‘No. Not even us,' I joked.

She grinned. ‘Speak for yourself!' She sighed. ‘One thing I do know little about, though, is dancing. Me – I have two left feet, and both of those seem to tread on my poor partner's toes! But I saw you dance – and you're as light on your feet as an angel!'

‘Only when I'm accompanied by another pair of light feet,' I said.

She gave me a mischievous sideways glance. ‘Oh yes, like those of Lucian Montresor? He's very handsome!' A pause. ‘It's a pity about the curse.'

I stared at her. ‘What?'

‘There's a curse on his family, they say.'

‘Nonsense,' I retorted.

‘It's true! My grandmother comes from that region and she said that everyone knows the story there. You see, a long time ago one of the Montresor ancestors killed a witch. As she lay dying, she cursed him and his descendants. My grandmother says that some go mad, some
go bad, but each Montresor is dangerous in one way or the other.'

‘Nonsense,' I repeated, trying to ignore the tingling of my scalp and the prickling of my hands. Such a thing might well explain Belladonna's manner towards him … But then I rallied. ‘If that were true, why would Lucian have been invited to the Presentation Ball? The Duke wouldn't risk bringing someone dangerous into his palace among so many other people.'

‘He can hardly
not
invite the Montresors,' said Emilia. ‘They might not be rich but they are one of the most ancient and most proud families in the land. In fact, at one time they could very well have become the rulers of Noricia themselves. It would be an insult if the Duke did not invite a Montresor to take the oath at the Presentation Ball.'

‘That's silly. I do believe you're making all this up, Emilia.'

‘I am not!' she answered indignantly.

‘I've just never heard of such a thing,' I said.

She folded her arms and looked at me. ‘That doesn't mean it's untrue, does it?'

I looked at her. ‘No, but how do you know it is?'

‘Because my grandmother said so,' she said, simply. Her mouth was set in a firm line. ‘She never lies.'

I saw that it was pointless arguing any further so I quickly turned the talk to other matters. I'd almost lost her friendship once. I did not want to risk losing it a second time.

Belladonna and I left the ball soon after midnight. She hadn't seen me talking to Emilia. I felt a little uneasy
keeping our friendship secret from my stepmother, but it seemed to be the only way.

But I could not keep my dance with Lucian a secret, of course. Belladonna had seen me whirling around the room with him. I waited for her to say that I should keep away from him, but instead she said, ‘Well, that went quite well.' She shot me a glance. ‘Despite some problems with making the right choices.'

I coloured, knowing she was referring to Emilia, and to Lucian. Though my heart rebelled, I muttered, ‘I'm … I'm sorry.'

She smiled. ‘Don't be. You'll do better next time.'

‘Thank … Thank you,' I murmured.

‘You needn't thank me. You're my daughter, aren't you?' She patted my hand. ‘Soon you'll be an adult, and you'll be able to take your place in the world.'

‘Mmm,' I said, but I couldn't keep my attention on what she was saying. My mind kept conjuring up a vision of riding with Lucian among beautiful mountain meadows covered in scented flowers; of picnicking with him by the side of a lovely mountain spring. And I knew that tonight a different dream had entered my heart. I didn't want to be like Belladonna anymore. I just wanted to see Lucian again. No matter what Belladonna or Emilia or anyone said.