filming of
The Daughter of Darkness.”
“Don’t worry,” Monty replied with a grin. “I’m ready to go. My case is packed, I have the script and the hansom cab outside is waiting to take me to the station. I just came to wish you all a fond farewell.”
He raised his straw boater in a valedictory salute, but before he could turn to the door, Penny was already on her feet.
“What do you mean?” she demanded, a note of indignation rising in her voice. “I haven’t seen any film script yet.”
Nonplussed, Monty plucked a letter from his blazer pocket and handed it to Penelope.
“It arrived earlier this week,” he told her. “When we met with Mr Gold, he took the liberty of asking me for the address of my club so that we could stay in touch.”
Casting her eyes over the letter, Penny felt her sense of fury start to grow.
Dear Mr Flinch,
I have the pleasure of enclosing the script for the cinematographic adaptation of your tale, The Daughter of Darkness. I trust you will find this to your satisfaction.
I am currently making the final arrangements for filming and will be in touch shortly to confirm your travel arrangements.
I look forward to commencing our collaboration.
Yours sincerely,
Mr Edward Gold
Seeing the storm clouds start to gather across Penny’s brow, Monty reached out to rest a conciliatory hand on her shoulder.
“You have no need to worry, my dear,” he reassured her. “I’ve read it from cover to cover. The script is sensational. Some might say it even improves on your tale.”
With a glowering look, Penny shook Monty’s hand from her shoulder. She turned towards her guardian, who was watching the scene with a shrewd eye.
“Can he even do this?” she demanded. “The agreement we signed was supposed to give me final approval of the script!”
Wigram shook his head with a sigh.
“The agreement gives
Montgomery Flinch
the final say,” the lawyer corrected her. “We can hardly blame Mr Gold for not knowing exactly who that is.”
Fuming at her own carelessness, Penny turned back towards Monty, who had started to edge towards the door.
“And where do you think you’re going?” she asked pointedly.
“My hansom cab is waiting,” Monty protested. “I need to get to Paddington Station by three. I have a train to catch.”
Behind her pale green eyes, Penelope’s thoughts raced. There was only one way that she’d get to the bottom of this mystery. “Tell the cab driver he’ll have to wait a little longer,” she told Monty. “First, I need to pack. I’m coming with you.”
The carriage bounced along the rutted track, Penny clinging to the rail of the trap as the driver sat on the box seat in front of them, his hands gripping the horses’ reins. Next to her, Monty was slowly turning a bilious shade of green as the cab lurched forward again. His straw boater had been blown from his head several miles back, lost to the winds whipping in from the moor.
The evening sun lurked just above the horizon, throwing long shadows across the heather-strewn wilderness. Scattered stumps of stone dotted the vast landscape, ancient reminders of those who had walked here thousands of years before. The carriage was climbing towards one of these cairns, a windswept huddle of rocks stark against the skyline. Above this outcrop, a buzzard wheeled, searching for its prey as the light started to fade.
Penelope shivered. She could scarce believe that only a few hours before she had been sat behind her desk at
The Penny Dreadful
. Now, as the forbidding moor stretched in every direction she could see, civilisation seemed a long way away.
It had taken all of her powers of persuasion to convince Mr Wigram that she should accompany Monty on this trip. At first, her guardian had been adamant that with
The Penny Dreadful
due to go to press in less than a week’s time, and Monty a far from reliable chaperone, it was out of the question. However, as Penny artfully employed her wiles,
The Daughter of Darkness.”
“Don’t worry,” Monty replied with a grin. “I’m ready to go. My case is packed, I have the script and the hansom cab outside is waiting to take me to the station. I just came to wish you all a fond farewell.”
He raised his straw boater in a valedictory salute, but before he could turn to the door, Penny was already on her feet.
“What do you mean?” she demanded, a note of indignation rising in her voice. “I haven’t seen any film script yet.”
Nonplussed, Monty plucked a letter from his blazer pocket and handed it to Penelope.
“It arrived earlier this week,” he told her. “When we met with Mr Gold, he took the liberty of asking me for the address of my club so that we could stay in touch.”
Casting her eyes over the letter, Penny felt her sense of fury start to grow.
Dear Mr Flinch,
I have the pleasure of enclosing the script for the cinematographic adaptation of your tale, The Daughter of Darkness. I trust you will find this to your satisfaction.
I am currently making the final arrangements for filming and will be in touch shortly to confirm your travel arrangements.
I look forward to commencing our collaboration.
Yours sincerely,
Mr Edward Gold
Seeing the storm clouds start to gather across Penny’s brow, Monty reached out to rest a conciliatory hand on her shoulder.
“You have no need to worry, my dear,” he reassured her. “I’ve read it from cover to cover. The script is sensational. Some might say it even improves on your tale.”
With a glowering look, Penny shook Monty’s hand from her shoulder. She turned towards her guardian, who was watching the scene with a shrewd eye.
“Can he even do this?” she demanded. “The agreement we signed was supposed to give me final approval of the script!”
Wigram shook his head with a sigh.
“The agreement gives
Montgomery Flinch
the final say,” the lawyer corrected her. “We can hardly blame Mr Gold for not knowing exactly who that is.”
Fuming at her own carelessness, Penny turned back towards Monty, who had started to edge towards the door.
“And where do you think you’re going?” she asked pointedly.
“My hansom cab is waiting,” Monty protested. “I need to get to Paddington Station by three. I have a train to catch.”
Behind her pale green eyes, Penelope’s thoughts raced. There was only one way that she’d get to the bottom of this mystery. “Tell the cab driver he’ll have to wait a little longer,” she told Monty. “First, I need to pack. I’m coming with you.”
The carriage bounced along the rutted track, Penny clinging to the rail of the trap as the driver sat on the box seat in front of them, his hands gripping the horses’ reins. Next to her, Monty was slowly turning a bilious shade of green as the cab lurched forward again. His straw boater had been blown from his head several miles back, lost to the winds whipping in from the moor.
The evening sun lurked just above the horizon, throwing long shadows across the heather-strewn wilderness. Scattered stumps of stone dotted the vast landscape, ancient reminders of those who had walked here thousands of years before. The carriage was climbing towards one of these cairns, a windswept huddle of rocks stark against the skyline. Above this outcrop, a buzzard wheeled, searching for its prey as the light started to fade.
Penelope shivered. She could scarce believe that only a few hours before she had been sat behind her desk at
The Penny Dreadful
. Now, as the forbidding moor stretched in every direction she could see, civilisation seemed a long way away.
It had taken all of her powers of persuasion to convince Mr Wigram that she should accompany Monty on this trip. At first, her guardian had been adamant that with
The Penny Dreadful
due to go to press in less than a week’s time, and Monty a far from reliable chaperone, it was out of the question. However, as Penny artfully employed her wiles,
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