The Lady Heiress (The Zero Enigma Book 8) Read online

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I mumbled. I read the file again, carefully noting everything I’d missed last night. “Why didn’t you expel me?”

  Mistress Grayling glowered. “Your father talked a good game,” she said. “And I felt sorry for you.”

  I tried not to snort. Mistress Grayling was not known for being sympathetic to anyone, particularly her students. Their comfort was hardly her top priority. She certainly had no qualms about meting out horrific and humiliating punishment to girls who pushed her a little too far. And she could easily have simply refused to take me if my family didn’t pay the fees. I was sure there was something she wasn’t telling me.

  “Really?” I tried to meet her eyes without quite meeting her eyes. “What did he offer you?”

  “Nothing of great importance.” Mistress Grayling’s expression grew worse. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to pay.”

  I snickered. I couldn’t help myself. “You’re going to drain my tuck shop allowance?”

  Mistress Grayling half-rose, then stopped herself. I was an adult now. She couldn’t give me a slap - or worse - for cheek. Not now. I felt a sudden thrill, even though I’d been told that adulthood brought its own risks and responsibilities. If she laid a finger on me now, I could drag her through the courts or challenge her to a duel or ...

  “This is no laughing matter,” Mistress Grayling said. Two bright spots coloured her cheeks. “The fees are important and ...”

  I kept my voice as even as possible. “As Matriarch of House Lamplighter, I will - naturally - honour all debts incurred by the family,” I said. “However, I will have to study the records first to determine what, if anything, the family owes you. And, in order to do that, I will have to return to Shallot as quickly as possible.”

  Mistress Grayling looked irked. “You intend to leave ahead of time?”

  “Yes.” I stood, holding out the file. “Please have this copied for me, along with a complete statement of what you believe you’re owed. I’ll collect it before I leave.”

  “The debt ...”

  “The debt needs to be confirmed before I can pay,” I said, feeling a flicker of guilty glee as I cut her off. I didn’t have to listen to the old bat any longer. Adulthood was fun. “I’ll be in my bedroom. When the coach is ready, send the Head Girl to inform me.”

  Mistress Grayling looked as if she’d bitten into a lemon. I would have been more alarmed if that hadn’t been how she looked most of the time. “As you wish.”

  “Thank you.” I swallowed the urge to tell her precisely what I thought of her school - and her teaching style. “I’ll need the letters too.”

  “Yes.” Mistress Grayling held them out. “Your formal exam results will be forwarded to you, along with your final records and references from any of your tutors. Should you wish to retake any of the exams, you can apply to the authorities in Shallot.”

  I nodded, tersely. I had no intention of retaking any of the exams. There was no need. I couldn’t balance my duties to the family with a career ... I frowned, realising - not for the first time - just how little I knew of current affairs. Who would challenge me for the headship? Who would promise to support me overtly and do their level best to undermine me covertly? Family politics were confusing, almost impossible to follow unless you were immersed in them from birth. Sorting out the pecking order, all the little alliances and principalities that made up the whole, was incredibly difficult. It was just like boarding school.

  Except worse things can happen than waking up a toad, I thought. A shiver ran down my spine. My father might have named me his heir, but there were limits to how far his writ ran now he was dead. I might be voted out of the family.

  My heart clenched. I might need those exam results after all.

  Mistress Grayling looked down at the file. “I’ll have these copied for you,” she said. It was a dismissal and I knew it. “And you’ll be informed when the coach is ready.”

  I nodded. “Are there any letters of mine you held back? Letters from my family?”

  “It is not school policy to withhold letters, outside exam season,” Mistress Grayling said. It was a lie. I’d found the proof yesterday. “If we believe someone ... unsuitable ... is writing to one of our students, we raise the issue with that student’s parents.”

  You let Christie get letters from her creep of a fiancé, I thought, coldly. And her family wouldn’t object because they’re the ones who arranged the match.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” I said, artfully. “I’d hate to hear there were letters that went missing in transit.”

  “Quite.” Mistress Grayling’s face was a mask, but she changed the subject quickly enough to convince me I’d hit a nerve. “You may take your breakfast in the teacher’s lounge, if you like. Or I can have Cook bring you something ...”

  “I don’t feel like eating,” I said. I knew I should eat something, but ... I couldn’t face the thought of food. My stomach was churning. I felt as though I was on the verge of retching. “I ... thank you.”

  I hesitated, then headed for the door. I could feel her eyes burning into my back as I opened the door and hurried out, but she didn’t call me back. I was being rude - I should have dropped a curtsy, probably - yet ... she’d lied to me. I knew she had withheld letters. And I’d make sure to use that information for leverage when she demanded I pay my fees. There were hundreds of students - and former students - who’d be unamused to hear their letters had been held back ...

  And then it hit me, like a curse between the eyes.

  My father was dead.

  Chapter Three

  I don’t know how I got back to my room.

  We’d been taught not to cry in public. Girls who blubbered were mocked relentlessly. It was supposed to toughen us up. And yet ... tears welled in my eyes as I stumbled along the corridor and practically crashed into my room. Kate was gone ... either to breakfast or to face the music for being caught out of bed last night. I didn’t care, not really. Right now, I just wanted to be alone. I sat on the bed, trying not to cry. It was hard, so hard, to remain focused.

  I peered down at the letters, trying to deny what I was seeing. My father couldn’t be dead, but ... he was. A formal death notification, countersigned by two healers ... there was no hope, someone had added in pencil, that he’d attempted to fake his death and vanish into the shadows. My eyes narrowed as I read the handwritten note time and time again. Why had they thought, even for a moment, that my father had faked his death?

  And they confirmed it was his body, I thought, numbly. Why did they go so far?

  I tried to reason it out, but drew a blank. It made no sense. My father’s death was untimely, but there was no hint of foul play. I read the letters again, noting that his first will had been very short. He’d left everything to me. His second will would be read later, if I recalled correctly. That one would touch on his authority within the family and his successor’s relationship to his clients. I swallowed hard, realising - once again - just how little I really knew. Who were my father’s clients? What did he do for them? Would they stay with me?

  My eyes started to blur again. I put the letters aside and buried my head in my hands. I was an adult now, not a schoolgirl. I couldn’t hide behind the innocence of youth. I had all the rights and responsibilities and freedoms of adulthood, including the freedom to take the consequences. I looked around the bedroom, seeing it with fresh eyes. It had been a nest, a haven from the rest of the school. But I would never sleep in the uncomfortable bed again.

  Which is probably for the best, I told myself. I could lodge a formal complaint about the accommodations now.

  I snickered, then stood and opened my drawers. My clothes - a child’s clothes - lay in front of me. We were discouraged from wearing anything too fancy, even outside school hours, but I had a small collection of dresses I’d worn over the summer holidays. My heart clenched. I was hardly the first nor only boarder to stay at the school over the summer, but ... I could h
ave gone home. Why hadn’t my father let me go home? I wished, suddenly, that I’d sneaked out and walked to the city. It would have been risky, but at least I would have seen my family again. Now ... I wasn’t even sure who was in and who was out. I picked up my blazer and stared down at it. I wouldn’t be wearing it again. I’d probably wind up donating it to a younger student.

  The door rattled, then burst open. Marlene shoved Kate into the room, then stopped and stared at me. I stared back, my mind going blank. What had caught her attention? Kate was staring too ... it struck me, suddenly, that I looked awful. Tears in my eyes, my hair hanging down ... they didn’t know what to make of me. I bit my lip. Marlene was no longer a problem. I had bigger fish to fry.

  I glared at her. “Get out.”

  Marlene blinked in surprise, then turned and left. I was surprised she didn’t slam the door again. Technically, she should have curtseyed and addressed me by my title or honorific, but ... I shook my head. Making her scrape and bow to me would be very satisfactory, I supposed, yet pointless. I was leaving the school. She wouldn’t see me again for the rest of term.

  Kate glanced at me, one hand playing with her braid. “Lucy ...?”

  “My father’s dead,” I said. “My father’s dead and ... and I’m going home.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kate said. I knew she meant it. “I ... when are you going home?”

  “Today.” I reached for my trunk and snapped it open, then started sorting through my clothes. The uniforms were largely worthless, outside the school. I’d leave them behind for the scholarship girls. The rest would have to be sorted again when I got home. “I’m not staying for graduation.”

  “Probably a good idea,” Kate said. She winced as she sat on the bed. “Marlene was a right” - she chuckled, suddenly - “I can’t think of any word rude enough for her.”

  “Yeah.” I grinned, although I felt little real humour. “How badly did she frighten your boyfriend?”

  “I think the mere sight of her was enough to make him flee.” Kate shook her head. “Can I ride back with you?”

  I blinked. “You don’t want to stay for graduation?”

  “My family can’t afford it.” Kate looked downcast, just for a second. “I was hoping to cadge a ride with the supply truck, next weekend.”

  I felt a stab of sympathy. Traditionally, senior students were allowed a little more freedom after they finished their exams. I’d been planning to go wild myself ... I groaned, inwardly, as I remembered I was now an adult. I couldn’t paper the towers with toilet paper or craft a trap for the prefects, not now. And ... I reminded myself, sharply, that Kate’s parents weren’t aristocrats. They’d had to scrimp and save to get their daughter a place at the school. I hoped it was worth it for them. Personally, I wasn’t so sure.

  “If you want to come, you’re welcome.” I picked out a dress and dropped it on the bed, then finished loading the trunk. “I’ll be glad of your company.”

  Kate beamed. “Thanks!”

  I smiled back at her, then hastily changed into the dress and bagged up my old school uniforms. They’d be washed, before being dispatched to the thrift shop. I made a careful note to ensure they were handed out for free, rather than being sold to wealthy students and their parents. It was unlikely a really wealthy student would wear my cast-offs - aristocrats preferred to have their uniforms carefully tailored and charmed - but I wouldn’t put it past the tutors to try to make a quick buck. They charged for everything, jacking the price up as much as possible. I remembered my father’s debts and shivered. Why hadn’t Mistress Grayling cast me out years ago?

  Maybe she did feel sorry for me, I thought. It seemed unlikely, as the headmistress rarely took charity cases. I doubted my fees had been paid by one of the scholarship funds. I was a good student, but not that good. Or was she hoping she could claim something more than money from me?

  I puzzled it over as I pocketed the letters and splashed water on my face. It just made no sense. Had she wanted my father in her debt? Or had she been told all fees would be paid when I graduated ... I doubted it. I’d studied business in school. It was a lot easier to insist on payment in advance, rather than chasing up debtors after the fact. Maybe she’d thought she could collect the money through the courts. It was possible, but ... were they the family’s debts or my father’s debts? If the latter ... I wasn’t sure who’d be liable, now he was gone. My lips twitched. I’d been a child, until my father had died. There was no way I could be held liable, no matter what I’d signed. Now ...

  Kate changed into a simple dress and preened in front of the mirror as she started to braid her hair. “It would be a lot easier if we were allowed to wear trousers.”

  “You can start a trend,” I said, dryly. I agreed with her - trousers were far more practical than dresses - but any girl who wore them could expect a lot of sharp and sarcastic remarks from the older generation. I didn’t know anyone my age who could start a trend of girls wearing trousers. It would practically have to be an aristo, someone who could stand against her own family. “Maybe you could convince everyone to follow you.”

  “I doubt it.” Kate grinned at me. “My father’s too busy trying to make money.”

  “Good for him,” I said. “I ...”

  My heart sank, again. My father was dead. I missed him, suddenly, with an intensity that surprised me. I’d always assumed there’d be time to get to know him, when I finally graduated and returned to the city. And now he was dead. How many others were dead too? How many of my aunts and uncles, the ones who’d tutored me in magic, were still alive? Uncle Jalil had written to me, but what about the others? Why hadn’t they written to me?

  “I’m sorry.” Kate rested a hand on my shoulder. “I wish I could make it better.”

  “Me too.” I put my hand on hers, just for a second. “But there’s nothing we can do.”

  Kate hugged me. “The ancients will accept him as one of their own.”

  I nodded, stiffly. They said no one was ever truly gone until they were forgotten. I’d been taught to recite a family tree that claimed to stretch back all the way to the Thousand Year Empire, although - reading between the lines - our records grew a little imprecise five hundred or so years ago. It wasn’t uncommon for the Great Houses to burnish their records and claim ancestors who’d never really existed, although none of them would ever admit to it. I doubted they knew the truth. No one really knew what had happened so long ago.

  And not reciting the names of the ancients would have consequences, I thought. I wasn’t sure I believed in the ancients, but the thought was comforting. My father and mother were waiting for me on the far side of the grave. They’ll be gone once they’re forgotten.

  I felt another chill as I stared down at my hands. It shouldn’t take long to organise a coach, surely. The school had a stable full of horses and a team of coachmen to convey us from place to place. Rumour had it the coachman’s apprentice was very good at kissing ... I snorted, reminding myself how rumours grew and grew until they became completely unrecognisable. It was impossible to say for sure.

  There was a knock on the door. “Marlene, I bet,” Kate muttered. “Should we pretend we’re asleep?”

  “She’d just come crashing in,” I muttered back, although I wasn’t sure that was true. Marlene might be Head Girl, but even she had to follow the courtesies. If an adult happened to file a complaint ... I dismissed the thought as I raised my voice. “Come!”

  Marlene stepped into the room. “The coach will be ready to go in an hour,” she said, as she held out a thick envelope. “And Mistress Grayling wanted me to give you these.”

  “Thanks,” I said, shortly. An hour? What was the coachman doing? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “Kate and I will be downstairs in an hour.”

  “Very good.” Marlene hesitated, as if she had something she wanted to say. “I ... can I accompany you to Shallot?”

  I blinked. “You want to leave the school?”

  “I want ...” Marlene chang
ed tack, sharply. “I want to go home.”

  “Really?” I made a show of raising my eyebrows. “You don’t want to stay for graduation?”

  “I may come back for the ceremony,” Marlene said. “But I don’t want to stay here any longer.”

  I frowned. Marlene was Head Girl. Mistress Grayling would hardly object to Kate accompanying me - if Kate couldn’t pay, she’d be kicked out faster than a thief - but Marlene? She had her duties, didn’t she? And she was meant to deliver the address during the graduation ceremony. Mistress Grayling would kick up a fuss if Marlene insisted on leaving the school. If nothing else, she’d have to hastily appoint a new Head Girl.

  “As a responsible adult” - I allowed that word to linger on my tongue - “I have to ask if you’ve checked with the headmistress.”