Now get back to work.”
Lord Grave and Bathsheba strode out of the drawing room, passing Becky, who bustled in armed with brooms and cloths and bottles of polish.
“Hope he told you what’s what, Goodly. We need to get on with cleaning this room.” She thrust a cloth at Lucy. “You dust the mantelpiece while I sweep the hearth.”
Lucy swallowed down her hatred of Lord Grave, snatched the cloth from Becky and began dusting. Outside, the sky darkened and rain rattled against the windows, as though the weather had decided to match Lucy’s bad mood.
A large painting hung above the mantelpiece. It showed a young woman. Her elaborately curled dark hair had an unusual white streak in the front. Her long dress was pale blue. The baby she held on her lap was chewing on a silver teething ring, which had a charm dangling from it. Lucy peered closely at the portrait and saw that the charm was a swan.
“Who are they?” Lucy asked.
Becky scowled and continued sweeping. “Lady Grave and little Lord Grave.”
“His Lordship’s wife and son?”
“Of course. Nitwit.”
Lucy gritted her teeth. “But where are they now?”
“Too many questions, Goodly.”
“Are they—?”
“Dead?” said another voice. Vonk stood in the doorway. “Yes. Lady Grave died from a fever not long after the portrait was painted. The young Lord Grave departed five years ago when he was only seven. A great tragedy for his Lordship. He’s never really recovered from it.” Vonk strode across the red carpet, stopping in front of the portrait.
Becky, who had instantly leaped back to her dustpan and brush when Vonk appeared, smirked. “I told her to stop asking questions.”
“Sorry, Vonk,” said Lucy. Perhaps the two tragedies partly explained why Lord Grave was so horrible, although that still didn’t excuse him.
Vonk raised his eyebrows. “Not a crime to be curious. Sign of intelligence.”
Becky dropped her brush with a clatter on to the marble hearth and muttered under her breath.
“It’s a beautiful painting, don’t you think?” Vonk said.
“Yes,” Lucy agreed. Then she noticed that something unusual was happening to the portrait. Orange-red flames were flickering in Lady Grave’s eyes. This startled Lucy for a moment, until she realised Becky had lit the lamps that hung on the opposite wall. The reflection of the flames reminded Lucy of the night she’d stolen the card. She shivered and crossed her arms over her chest as she remembered. It had happened over two years ago, just before her tenth birthday …
She was standing sleepily at the back of a rundown gambling den, waiting for her parents to lose yet another card game. The doors of the gambling den creaked open and a blast of cold air whipped in from outside. Lucy stared as the woman who had entered the den made her way to the poker tables. She wore a fine, warm-looking scarlet coat with black velvet frogging down the front and a red hat with a red veil. Her hair was red too and fell loosely around her shoulders. The woman smiled at Lucy as she passed.
Lucy’s sleepiness vanished. It’s her again. She’d seen the woman, whom she’d nicknamed Lady Red, several times over the past few weeks in various gambling dens.
“Good evening, everyone,” said Lady Red. She sailed past the table Lucy’s parents were sitting at and settled herself at a table further down the room where a game had just finished. The other poker players gaped at the well-dressed new arrival. Most of them were as rundown as the gambling den.
A new round of poker began. As the cards were dealt, Lucy quietly made her way across the room until she stood just behind Lady Red’s chair.
Lady Red lost the first game. But then something strange happened. The same something strange Lucy saw last time she watched this mysterious woman play poker. The cards in Lady Red’s hand went blank. A few seconds later, they became new cards. Cards that won the poker game instantly. Last time Lucy had witnessed this amazing trick, she had noticed something else. The edge of a playing card poking out from Lady Red’s sleeve.
The other players, who had noticed nothing amiss, muttered angrily as they discovered they had lost the game.
“Another round?” one particularly grubby individual asked.
Lady Red declined, as Lucy expected she would. She only ever stayed for one or two hands of poker.
“How does she do it?” Lucy muttered to herself as Lady Red gathered up the notes and coins she’d won, and pushed back her chair, which banged straight into Lucy.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sweet child, I didn’t see you there! Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” Lucy said, hoping the woman wouldn’t guess she’d been spying.
“Well, that’s a relief. In that case, I wonder if you’d mind helping me to my coach?” Lady Red said as she finished stuffing her winnings into a fancy silk bag. “I’m wearing most unsuitable shoes for this icy weather.” She lifted her long skirts to show a pair of dainty scarlet velvet shoes with a high pointed heel. “I’ll reward you, of course.”
Lucy agreed instantly. They made their way outside, where Lucy took the woman’s arm and helped her to the black carriage that was waiting. It was drawn by a fine dark horse, its breath steaming in the cold air. The driver was so bundled up against the cold that all that Lucy could see of him was the tip of his nose.
Lady Red stopped at the bottom of the carriage steps. “I have an idea. Why don’t you hop in with me? We could go to my house. Have cocoa and toast in front of the fire. I’ll still give you a coin too, of course.”
Lucy’s empty stomach rumbled at the thought of cocoa and toast. She and her parents hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days. But Lady Red had something Lucy wanted even more than food. The thought of what she was about to do made her tremble. It wasn’t in her nature to thieve, but Lucy was truly desperate.
“That would be lovely, thank you,” Lucy said. But she didn’t move.
“Wonderful. Hurry up now, it’s cold. You get in first.”
“I’ve never ridden in a carriage before. Do I just go up these steps?” Lucy asked, trying to sound bewildered.
“Why don’t I help you in?” Lady Red spoke very slowly, as though Lucy was three years old. “Take my hand.”
Lucy took the woman’s gloved hand in her own rough cold one. And just as she had hoped, Lucy saw a playing card poking out from the bottom of Lady Red’s sleeve. Lucy snatched it and pulled herself free. For a split second, Lucy’s eyes met Lady Red’s, which blazed suddenly like tiny twin suns.
Lucy turned and ran.
And ran.
And ran some more.
Lady Red tried to run after her. But she hadn’t been lying about her shoes being useless in the snow. She slipped and fell.
“Treeves,
