Prudence (Page 66)

While Primrose poured more tea, Rue avoided the question by asking one of her own. “Is it really true that Mrs Featherstonehaugh went with them willingly?”

Miss Sekhmet nodded. “She is acting as surety for British cooperation. She has a childish faith in their being good and noble.”

Rue frowned. “And you are working for them as what?”

“Nothing any more. I said I would speak for them and I did. We expected your mother, not you. Her, I wanted to meet. An original, and I’m fond of originals. Not that you are not unique, skin-stalker.”

Quesnel pressed the question. “Then who do you work for?”

Miss Sekhmet looked insulted by his impertinence. If she’d had her whiskers, she would have twitched them.

“Milk?” asked Prim, raising the jug questioningly over the tea cup.

“The more the better, lovely child. The more the better,” responded the werecat with a look of avarice.

Prim blushed and poured. She handed over the cup.

They half expected Miss Sekhmet to begin lapping. But she was perfectly respectable about it, sipping with pleasure at the over-milked cold tea.

“They asked me to speak their case. So I spoke it. You did nothing. Now they wonder who is on whose side. They question my motives. They question yours. You have handled this badly, skin-stalker.”

Rue took offence at that. “I thought it was all about the tea.”

Miss Sekhmet smiled a very cat-with-cream smile. “They hold, how you British might say, all the cards.”

Rue was annoyed. “But what do they want? I must say, you haven’t done well in making their position clear.”

Miss Sekhmet paused so long the silence became awkward.

“Something fresher?” offered Prim nervously, signalling to one of the stewards with the intention of sending him to the meat locker.

The werecat shook her head. “No. Thank you for the thought. This will do well enough. Wait. Are those kippers? Marvellous. It’s been years since I had a kipper.”

Prim served their guest a generous helping of kippers in brown butter sauce and fried egg. All quite cold by now, but the werecat didn’t seem to mind congealed food.

“How did you know they were sending anyone?” Rue asked.

“Your father wrote a letter to the pack here. Asking them to keep an eye on his biggest treasure. Of course, I thought he meant his wife. We all did. She’s travelled without him before. Didn’t realise you were all grown up and floating about without them.”

Rue said, “Time moves differently for immortals.”

“Just so.” Miss Sekhmet nodded. “Nor did we think England would let you out of the country.”

“I am not a prisoner because I am metanatural!”

“No, but you are, as your father put it, a national treasure.”

Rue frowned darkly. Overprotective, interfering Paw!

The werecat laughed. “Child, you don’t have to explain to me a love of independence.”

Rue moved them on. “Let us be frank, Miss Sekhmet. These people you keep alluding to – the ones who have Mrs Featherstonehaugh and the taxes – are they indeed some form of weremonkey, or are we merely dealing with nationalist dissidents?”

Rue was reminded of that old saying: trying to get a straight answer out of a cat is like trying to find the soap in the bathtub.

Miss Sekhmet swallowed her mouthful of kipper and looked smug.

Percy said, “The agreement, SAD. Of course! Things could get messy, politically, if Vanaras do exist. The Rakshasas would have to share power.”

Miss Sekhmet tried hard to hide her surprise. “Your government would acknowledge them legally?”

Percy sat a little more upright. “My good woman! The British have always dealt fairly with the supernatural. It is tradition.”

Miss Sekhmet’s lip curled. “But not with the natives.”

Percy looked surprised. “We bring civilisation and enlightenment to all the empire.”

“Is that what you call it?” The werecat finished her kipper and leaned back in her chair, sipping tea. “Mrs Featherstonehaugh believes similarly. The Vanaras are not so sure. And then when you refused to talk…”

“I didn’t refuse!” said Rue. “I didn’t know.”

“And now we are at an impasse. For I am no longer speaking for them and you have yet to ask me the right question.” Miss Sekhmet put down her cup.

Rue frowned. “Werelioness, are you aware that I have been made sundowner?” That little bit of information managed to shock the werecat. So she doesn’t know everything.

“Chérie!” Quesnel’s voice was gruff with warning.

The werecat inclined her head. “A threat, little bird? I comprehend. Then they do not treasure you as much as they think you are useful. Very interesting.”

Rue laughed. “That would appear to be the case.”

“So?”

“So can you take me to the Vanaras?” They want me to negotiate in my mother’s name and Dama wants me to find the tea. Only Mrs Featherstonehaugh knows where it is. I suppose I am going into the jungle whether I like it or not.

“Very good, skin-stalker. That is the right question. And yes, yes I can.”

At which Prim, Percy, and Quesnel all started talking at once.

Prim and Quesnel thought this a terrible idea. Percy thought he ought to accompany Rue for research purposes. At which statement Quesnel said no, he should come along, for he could help defensively as well as scientifically. Prim said if Rue had to go, they should take The Spotted Custard and crew into the forest en masse.

Rue held up a hand. “Do you think the government would not have tried to find Mrs Featherstonehaugh by air before now? I suspect this forest to be overly lush. No, the hunt must be conducted on foot. Or more precisely, on paw.”

Quesnel and Prim protested this vociferously. “It’s too dangerous!”

Rue considered. “In lioness form, I can carry two easily.” Only Prim had any idea how thrilled she was to say that. Oh please, oh please, oh please.

Miss Sekhmet looked thoughtful, rather than objecting outright.

Rue was delighted. She felt compelled to explain. “Not by weight. I could take more. I’m as strong as any normal werecreature. At least I think I would be. I’ve never done cat before, but by size —” She gestured expressively at her short curvaceous figure. “As you might have noticed, I did not benefit from my parents’ proportions. Two is the most that will fit on my back.”