Ravensclaw Read Online Free PDF Page B

understand that children, being small, are best suited to the task. I think you may not understand that a sweep’s life expectancy is approximately six months. If hesurvives past his twelfth birthday, which is unlikely, his body will have been permanently deformed by the constant pushing of his limbs against the chimneys’ brick walls. My papa was so appalled by this widespread barbarity that he invented a system of elongated hinged poles and a pulley apparatus to be used in our home.” She paused for breath. Her captive muttered something uncomplimentary concerning contermashious sassenachs.
    “Poles and pulleys,” Val repeated. “I will be fascinated to learn the details. Your young friend has a somewhat noxious aroma about him.” His houseguest, on the other hand, smelled like pasta tossed with sautéed garlic and olive oil. “Isidore. Take this noisome whelp away.”
    “I’m nae bastartin’ whelp! Me name’s Jamie.” protested the sweep.
    “Neispravit,” muttered Isidore, in the strangled tones of someone attempting not to breathe through his nose.
    “No!” said Miss Dinwiddie in the same moment, and clutched the boy’s filthy arm. “You shan’t have him for your — er!”
    For his breakfast, mayhap? “Isidore will speak with the lad’s master. Zizi, Bela, and Lilian will give the brat a bath.” Emily looked undecided. Jamie suggested that his captors awa’ and bile their heids.
    Much as Val disliked to impose his will on others, sometimes he had no choice. Go with Isidore. Now.
    Jamie’s jaw went slack. Isidore grasped the boy’s ear and led him from the room.
    Drogo padded after them. Machka rubbed against Miss Dinwiddie’s ankles, for all the world as if she liked their guest. What Machka really liked was to be an annoyance. Val picked up the cat and set her on his shoulder. Machka licked his ear.
    Emily removed her spectacles and gave them a brisk polish. “That was most impressive. However, you needn’t try and bamboozle me into thinking I don’t want Jamie as my page.”
    Val decided Miss Dinwiddie must be unfamiliar with the adage concerning fools and angels and the placement of their feet. “First you invade my castle and demand I bring you to Edinburgh. Now you introduce a thief into my household and insist on having him as your servant, although I doubt he has the faintest notion what a page boy does and will probably make off with all the silver plate. Don’t put your back up; I’m not suggesting you should turn him out into the streets. Mrs. MacCamish could handle a regiment of Hussars. She’ll brook no nonsense from a cheeky little scamp.”
    “Mrs. MacCamish?” Emily echoed suspiciously.
    “My cook. Don’t look so appalled. Contrary to what you seem to think, I do not have a taste for roasted guttersnipes.”
    She replaced her spectacles. “You’re angry with me.”
    Yes, and wasn’t that interesting? Anger wasn’t an emotion with which Val often bothered. “I made some inquiries last night, after you went to sleep. Michael Ross is a familiar figure in Edinburgh society. Yes, I understand that you yearn to confront him, but matters will proceed more smoothly if his suspicions aren’t aroused. In other words, you can’t just march up to the door of his lodging house and demand he give back your belongings. If Ross did steal the things, you will have put him on his guard.”
    Emily tucked a rebellious orange ringlet back into her braid. “I’m sure that he stole it. Well, almost.”
    And therein lay a tale, thought Val. He wondered if he would enjoy discovering what it was.
    “If one wishes to trap a thief, then one must go where the thief will be. Specifically—” One hand steadying the cat perched on his shoulder, he rifled through a stack of invitations. “Lady Cullane’s musicale.”
    Emily sank into a chair. “You can’t mean what I think you mean. I don’t have time to attend any wretched musicale.”
    Val set aside the invitation. “One must make