Serafina and the Black Cloak - Robert Beatty Page 0,87
Vanderbilt, expecting the worst.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Serafina,” Mr. Vanderbilt said, smiling and cheerful, and he shook her hand. “I must say, young lady, that you are my great hero today for what you’ve done. You are my Diana, goddess of the Wood, goddess of the Hunt. In fact, I shall erect a statue in your honor on top of the tallest hill in sight of the house. You have done what I could not. The police couldn’t do it, and the private detectives couldn’t do it. You brought all the children home. It’s simply wonderful, Serafina! Bravo!”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, blushing. She’d never seen him so full of praise. She couldn’t help but laugh at herself for thinking that fancy shoes were the root of all evil. It seemed ridiculous now that she had been so suspicious of him.
“So, tell me what happened, Serafina,” Mr. Vanderbilt said. “How did you find the children?”
She wanted to tell him, tell him everything, like a proud, four-legged mouser that lays her nightly kill on her master’s doorstep. But then she remembered everything that had happened: the cloak, the cemetery. They were adults, and they were human. The last thing they wanted to hear were the grisly details of the rats she’d killed.
“The children were in the forest, sir,” she said. “We just had to find them.”
“But where?” he asked. “I thought we looked everywhere.”
“They were in the old cemetery,” she said.
Mr. Vanderbilt’s brows furrowed. “But how did they get there? Why didn’t they come back?”
“The old graveyard is heavily overgrown, like a maze now. Once you wander in, even by accident, it’s a very dark and difficult place to escape.”
“But you did, Serafina,” he said, tilting his head.
“I’m good in the dark.”
“But you were injured,” he said, gesturing toward her neck and her other wounds. “You look like you battled the devil himself.”
“No, no, nothing like that, sir,” she said, covering her crusty neck wound self-consciously. “I just had a run-in with a nasty thorn. It’ll mend. But the children were hungry and scared when I found them, sir, very confused, filled with nightmarish stories of ghosts and ghouls. They were terrified.”
“It sounds like you all went through an extremely harrowing experience…” Mr. Vanderbilt said, his voice filled with both sympathy and respect.
“Yes, sir. I think we should try to make sure that none of our future guests go in that direction again,” she said, thinking of her momma’s den with her brother and sister. “I think the old cemetery is best left alone.”
“Yes, that’s sensible,” he agreed. “We’ll be sure to tell visitors to avoid that area. Far too dangerous.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well,” he said finally, sighing in relief and looking at Serafina. “I can’t say I understand everything that happened, but I do know a hero when I see one.”
“You mean a heroine,” Mrs. Vanderbilt said. She put her hand out to Serafina in the fashion of fancy ladies. Serafina quickly tried to remember what she’d seen young ladies do in these situations, and did her best to approximate the motion of shaking her hand. Mrs. Vanderbilt’s hand felt so soft and pillowy and clean compared to her own, and so different from the sinewy tautness of her mother’s hands.
“It is very good to finally meet you, young lady,” Mrs. Vanderbilt said, smiling. “I knew there must be someone new in Braeden’s life. I just couldn’t decipher who in the world it was.”
“I am pleased to meet you as well, Mrs. Vanderbilt,” Serafina said, trying to sound as dignified and grown-up as she could.
“Braeden said that you live in our basement. Is that really true?” Mrs. Vanderbilt asked kindly.
Serafina nodded, terrified at what she was going to say next.
“Do you have a job in the basement, Serafina?” Mrs. Vanderbilt asked.
“Yes,” Serafina replied, feeling a smidgen of pride shining through her. “I’m the C.R.C.”
“I’m so sorry, darling. I’m afraid I don’t know what that means.”
“I’m Biltmore Estate’s Chief Rat Catcher.”
“Oh my,” Mrs. Vanderbilt said in surprise, looking over at her husband and then back at Serafina. “I must admit, I didn’t even know we had one of those!”
“Yes, you’ve had one for a long time,” she said. “Pretty much since I was six or seven.”
“It seems to me that it must be an extremely important job,” Mr. Vanderbilt said.
“Well, yes, I take it quite seriously,” Serafina said.
“You can say that again,” said Braeden.
Serafina poked him in the side with her elbow and tried to keep from smiling.