‘In that case, I’ll take your advice, sir. I don’t think I’m quite ready for a beard.’
The prince waved me away with his chubby hand. Mr Sheridan gave a wink and drained his glass to me. I made another bow and darted from the room, running all the way back to my staircase without pausing to catch my breath. I didn’t have a moment to lose.
Abracadabra: Thomas Hengrave was about to disappear.
SCENE 2 – OLD JEAN’S BEAGLES
I wasn’t quite quick enough. I had calculated that the headmaster would be spending the hours until the rehearsal escorting his royal guest, but I was wrong. He had returned to his paperwork far sooner than I had imagined. I had written a farewell letter, changed and packed a few belongings in a bundle but not yet left the room when an almighty commotion broke out in the courtyard below. I peered out the window. Dr Vincent was standing in the middle of the Dean’s Yard and bellowing, ‘Hengrave! Hengrave Junior and Senior, my office, now!’ When neither of us emerged to obey his summons, he shouted to a passing boy. ‘You there! Fetch the Hengraves!’
There was no time to get down the stairs unnoticed. Footsteps could be heard coming up to fetch me. I hid my bundle in the coal scuttle, blackened my hands and face with ash and knelt on the hearth. A boy burst into the room. As my luck would have it, it was Ingels. He was confronted by the sight of the scullery maid in demure close-fitting cap, laying the fire.
‘Oi you! Have you seen Thomas Hengrave? He’s a little squirt with red hair who lives in these rooms,’ Ingels said rudely.
I got up, wiped my nose on the back of my hand and bobbed a curtsey, keeping my eyes lowered. ‘Nah, sir, I ain’t seen no one since I came up ’ere. I think ’e went skatin’ on the duck pond.’ This was the furthest point of the school from here.
I was fortunate that I had been interrupted by one of the densest pupils in my class. It did not occur to him to ask himself what a change of clothes might do for a person.
‘If he comes back, tell him he’s wanted by the headmaster.’
‘Yes, sir.’ I bobbed another curtsey.
Ingels left quickly. For the first time, I thanked Dr Vincent for his reputation as a flogger: he would not hesitate to blame Ingels for failing to find the Hengraves soon enough so the boy was in a hurry to execute his errand.
I risked another peek outside. I had to get out of here in case someone more penetrating than Ingels should come looking for me, but the quad was now full of pupils. Everyone knew something serious was up. Footsteps again and I slipped behind the door.
‘Cat?’ Frank whispered urgently. I came out of my hiding place and he did a double take. ‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘That’s uncommonly good.’ He nodded with approval at my plain grey dress, coarse apron, clogs and severe cap: I looked like the most downtrodden maid of all work, thanks to Lizzie’s gifts.
‘There’s a letter on the table that should help you both,’ I said, grabbing my bundle and shawl. ‘I’ve got to get out but there’s so many people about I’m afraid someone will spot me.’
Frank picked up the letter and read it quickly.
‘Cat, you’re a marvel. This might just save Charlie from expulsion. He expects a thrashing, of course – we can’t do anything about that. He’s hiding in the library looking studious and innocent.’
I was rather proud of the letter. The idea for it had come to me while being grilled on my origins in the presence of Mr Sheridan, the Irish actor turned statesman.
Dear Charlie
I apologize for working such a deception on you. As you will know by now, I am not in fact your younger brother, Thomas, as I claimed. My parents are actors and they placed me with the same tutor in Dublin as your brother. I knew that he was due to attend Westminster School, that he had been ill and that you his older brother had not seen him for many months. By studying his behaviour carefully and learning all that I could about your family, I thought to try my fortune by passing myself off as him, claiming to be much wasted by disease. To this end, I forged a letter from your gracious mother to the headmaster, having had the pleasure of seeing her hand many times while studying with the real Thomas Hengrave. I admit that I had a wager on the outcome with some friends at the theatre, which explains my motives.
Please pass on my regrets to Mr Castleton that I will be unable to accept the role of Electra. As a man of great perception, he was the first to sense my theatrical background and I have no doubt that the clever teachers at Westminster School would have soon smoked me out. (There was no harm in laying on the flattery so that they wouldn’t feel so stupid).
I know that you will feel angry now, but perhaps in time you will forgive me. I hope the guineas you have spent on me will be thought punishment enough and teach you to be more suspicious.
With the money I have earned on my wager I am bound for India to join my uncle in the Hussars so do not try to trace me – I will be gone.
Yours in haste,
Thomas Bennington-Smythe.
Frank put the letter in his pocket. ‘Well this is another scrape, Cat, and no mistake: the quad is teeming with boys; Dr Vincent is on the warpath; the heir to the throne and your patron are both about the place. How are we going to get away with it this time, even in your woman’s weeds?’ But for all his words of doom, he was grinning – highly delighted by the absurdity of the situation.
I wasn’t as amused as he: the consequences of being caught out as a girl were too horrible to be imagined.
‘I just need a few minutes to slip across the quad and past the porter. We need a diversion . . .’
Frank tapped his temple. ‘I have the perfect idea – kill two birds with one stone.’