Page 46 of The Nanny’s Handbook to Magic and Managing Difficult Dukes

Wherein There Is a Visit to a Dinosaur Court, Nanny Chase Gives Chase, Followed by a Discussion About Hoydens, Hellions, and Worm’s Meat…

After much negotiation—during which several glasses of fizzy lemonade and sticky iced finger buns were consumed—it was decided that the children’s first stop would be Dr. Merryweather’s tempest prognosticator.

Lured by the prospect of seeing weather-predicting leeches—as well as a garment fashioned from poodle fur, a “talking” electric telegraph, and a taxidermy display featuring animals engaged in everyday domestic scenes such as frogs shaving and kittens sipping tea and playing the pianoforte—both Bartholomew and Gareth agreed the dinosaurs and cat circus could wait until they’d explored inside for a while.

At least that was the plan. Emmeline had her fingers crossed that the duke’s wards would remain agreeable for a few hours. It was an exciting day out, after all.

By the time they emerged outside and began to make their way toward the “Dinosaur Court” on the banks of the Serpentine, the boys were fairly bouncing like a pair of jack-in-the-boxes.

“Can we climb on the dinosaurs?” asked Gareth.

A small crowd was already amassed around the exhibit.

A good number of children were swarming over the huge concrete sculptures—sitting on their backs and their heads, even swinging from their necks.

“Or are the dinosaurs too sore? I don’t see any bandages though. ”

“They’re not real , silly,” said Bartholomew. “So they can’t be sore. They’re statues of dinosaurs. And there are no more dinosaurs left on earth anyway. They’re all dead. Like dragons.”

“There’s a Megalosaurus, a Hylaeosaurus and two Iguanodons ,” read Harry from her guidebook as they waited on the edge of Rotten Row for a dignitary’s carriage to pass.

“An Igoo-nana?” repeated Gareth. “Did they eat bananas?”

“I don’t know,” said Emmeline. “Perhaps it’s something we can research when we return to St Lawrence House.”

The duke grimaced. “I’m not sure if I have any paleontology texts.”

They crossed the road and hovered on the edge of the small throng, waiting for an opportunity to move closer. After a few minutes, Bartholomew began to transfer his weight from one foot to the other. “Oh no. I think I drank too much lemonade,” he complained.

“There are retiring rooms over that way,” said Harry helpfully. She pointed to a low building by a grove of trees not far from the Crystal Palace. “The guidebook says it only costs a penny to use them. They are divided into male and female sections.”

“I shall take you,” said the duke. “Bertie will accompany us if that is all right with you, Mrs. Chase. You’ll still have Ollie and Fanny.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Your Grace,” said Emmeline. “We’ll be here, communing with the dinosaurs.”

Not long after the duke, Bartholomew, and Bertie had moved off, a loud squawk heralded the return of Horatio. He landed on the branch of a nearby beech tree. Hullo! Did you miss me?

Of course I did , replied Emmeline. I consider you one of my very best friends.

By Jupiter, if I could blush, I would , returned the raven.

He puffed out his glossy black chest. Because we’re friends, I thought I should let you know that Lord Nevergrin, his snootynosed wife, and their ne’er-do-well son Algernon are here today.

I watched them arrive a short time ago. They were heading for the Crystal Palace.

Emmeline glanced toward the children, Ollie, and Fanny.

Harry was reading her guidebook while Gareth held Fanny’s hand.

Ollie was scratching the back of his neck and staring off into the distance toward the retiring rooms. The footman was a strapping young chap like Bertie, and Emmeline supposed he could see over the heads of the strolling crowd.

Thank you for the warning , she said to Horatio.

Hopefully the duke won’t cross paths with his uncle, aunt, or cousin.

Horatio ruffled his feathers. I’d be happy to drop a guano grenade or two on any one of the blighters. Or swoop down and knock off their hats. Lady Peregrine’s is particularly atrocious. That would quickly send them home.

Emmeline had to cover her mouth with a gloved hand to stifle a laugh. I’ll keep it in mind.

She turned her gaze back to the children. And then she frowned in confusion. Not children . One child. Just Harry.

Cursing herself for being distracted by her conversation with Horatio, she picked up her skirts and hastened across the clipped lawn toward Fanny and Ollie. “Where’s Gareth?”

Fanny turned this way and that. “He was here a moment ago, Nanny Chase. I swear.”

“You were holding his hand,” Emmeline said. “Did you not notice when he let go? Which direction he went?”

The young woman shook her head. “No. I-I don’t know. He can’t have gone far.”

Harry, who’d tucked her guidebook away in a pocket, was biting her bottom lip. “I’m worried,” she said. “It’s not like Gareth to go off on his own. Gareth!” she called. “Gareth!”

Ollie started forward, moving toward the dinosaur exhibit. “Maybe he’s hiding behind the dinosaurs. I’ll look.”

Horatio fluttered onto a lower branch of the beech tree. Never fear, Nanny Chase, I’ll look about the Park. I have a bird’s-eye view.

Thank you, my fine feathered friend.

Emmeline rushed around the edges of the crowd, calling Gareth’s name, looking for his light brown hair and blue coat.

She would not panic. She would not panic. He must be nearby.

Even so, her heart was pounding and her mouth was as dry as cold ashes. One thing that had been drummed into Parasol Academy students from day one was that you must always be on alert. Always be on your guard, especially in public places.

She’d become complacent and had relied on Fanny too much.

But self-recrimination could wait until later. Finding Gareth was her priority.

“Mrs. Chase?” The duke caught her arm and Emmeline almost stumbled against him. His black brows had arrowed into a ferocious frown. “Is something amiss?”

Her heart in her mouth, Emmeline stated the dreaded truth. “Gareth has wandered off, Your Grace.”

The duke swore beneath his breath. “How long has he been missing?” he demanded, his grip tightening.

Tamping down a surge of rising fear—she was trained for this, she was prepared for any eventuality—she filled the duke in on what had happened.

“Do you think he wandered over to the Serpentine?” he asked, his fiercely concerned gaze scanning the crowd and the surrounding parkland. The lake’s still, mirrorlike surface glinted in the sunlight.

Oh God! If he’d slipped in… “I have no idea,” Emmeline replied, unable to disguise the tremble in her voice. “Horatio—” She broke off. Curses. She couldn’t mention Horatio was flying about looking from above. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling. We need to mount a proper search. Every second counts.”

Bartholomew had begun to cry, and Harry was as pale as a ghost. Emmeline’s heart contracted painfully. She wanted to comfort them, but the best thing—the only thing to do was find Gareth. And as quickly as possible.

Ollie reappeared, red-faced and panting. “He’s not on or around the dinosaur statues.”

“Damn it,” muttered the duke. He caught Emmeline’s eye. “Right. Here’s what we’ll do. Fanny can stay here with the children while—”

A loud screech from above drew their attention heavenward.

Horatio!

I’ve spotted Gareth, Nanny Chase, called the raven. A few hundred yards off. He’s with a brute of a man in a tweed coat and brown beaver hat, heading toward the Albert Gate. Or possibly Hyde Park Corner. I’ll swoop the kidnapping bastard and peck his misbegotten eyes out. This way!

Not if I get to him first , thought Emmeline, her blood boiling.

Horatio shot off and Emmeline picked up her skirts and bolted after the raven. Fueled by fury and righteous indignation, her feet took flight. “Gareth’s been taken,” she called over her shoulder, back at the duke. “By a man. Follow me!”

Not caring if the duke kept up with her or not, Emmeline sprinted across the grass, ducking and weaving through knots of Exhibition-goers as she went.

Her Academy parasol was tucked beneath her arm and she would take immense delight in poking Gareth’s kidnapper to kingdom come.

If she could manage it, she’d get a few well-placed whacks in too for good measure.

On his backside and between his legs. About the ears too. How dare he take Gareth!

How dare he!

There. Up ahead. A brown beaver hat and tweed coat. Wide shoulders that looked vaguely familiar… Could it be the scarred brute who’d chased her and the duke down Temple Close?

The hat went flying as Horatio swooped down like an avenging avian god from on high. The man tried to beat him off with a flailing arm, but the raven was too nimble. The bird launched a second attack and a woman screamed and a man shouted.

“Gareth,” cried Emmeline, ignoring the burning in her pumping legs and her lungs. “I’m coming!”

She was so close now, she could see the little boy. Even though Horatio had attacked the kidnapper, he still held on tightly to Gareth’s hand.

“Not for long you won’t, you swine,” muttered Emmeline to herself, skidding to a halt behind them.

With all her might, she prodded the man’s back with the end of her parasol as she muttered, “ Perplexio , you bastard.”

But then the brute swung around to face her. Rage contorted his features. Blood trickled from a raven-inflicted scrape above one eyebrow. “Ow! That hurt, you bloody bitch,” he cried.

Damn, the Point-of-Confusion had not worked! The scarfaced stranger was not pleasantly perplexed at all. He looked like an incensed bull about to gore her.

But he’d let go of Gareth at least. “Run,” she urged the boy as she and the fuming henchman faced each other like combatants in a wrestling ring, sizing each other up.

Then the man swore and paled. Took a step backward, away from her. Glancing over her shoulder, Emmeline caught a glimpse of the duke, running full tilt their way.