Anastasia Romanov: The Last Grand Duchess #10 by Ann Hood Read Free Book Online

Felix said, to be nice.
    â€œTodd Fishbaum is an oaf,” Maisie said, jiggling her leg as if that would help them get home faster.
    â€œMaisie!” her mother reprimanded. “He’s a star ice-hockey player, you know. And a very nice boy.”
    Usually, Maisie would argue her point. But tonight she chose to focus instead on what was inside that egg. Great-Uncle Thorne’s description of the other eggs and the surprises they held had captivated her imagination. But this egg was even more special, wasn’t it? And Amy Pickworth had spoken to them across time and ordered them to open it.
Why?
Maisie wondered.
Why now?
    At last Elm Medona came into view.
    The tall black wrought-iron gates trimmed in gold leaf with the interlocking
P
s in the center slowly swung open, and they made their way up the long winding road that led to Elm Medona.
    Maisie expected to find Great-Uncle Thorne anxiously waiting in the foyer. But inside the mansion was empty, the lights turned low.
    â€œGreat-Uncle Thorne?” Maisie called out.
    â€œShhh,” her mother hushed. “Let the poor man rest. He was at death’s door days ago. He needs to sleep and recover.”
    Maisie looked at Felix, who was acting like he was about to go up to bed himself.
    â€œWell, that was a great steak,” he said to his mother.
    He yawned and headed for the Grand Staircase.
    â€œI’m going to read a little and then go to sleep,” he added over his shoulder.
    Maisie stomped off after him.
    â€œGood night, Maisie,” her mother said in that tone that meant Maisie had misbehaved.
    â€œGood night,” Maisie muttered, hurrying to catch up with Felix.
    As she passed the photograph of Great-Aunt Maisie as a girl Maisie’s own age, she paused. Sometimes it seemed like Great-Aunt Maisie was smiling at her from that picture. Like now.
    â€œWhat do you know?” Maisie whispered, and waited as if the girl in the picture might actually answer her.
    Of course that didn’t happen, and Maisie continued on her way upstairs.
    Instead of going to the Princess Annabelle of Nanuh’s Room, though, she went straight to Samuel Dormatorio, where Felix was already in his pajamas, a book in his hand.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Maisie asked him in frustration. “We have to open the egg!”
    â€œI figured if Great-Uncle Thorne wanted us to do it now, he would have been waiting for us. I guess it’s not as urgent as we thought?”
    Maisie studied her brother’s face carefully.
    â€œYou’re scared,” she said finally.
    â€œScared? Me?” Felix asked. “Of Bolsheviks and massacres? Not at all.”
    â€œWe’ll be long gone before the Bolsheviks arrive,” Maisie said.
    Felix pointed a finger at her. “You don’t know that.”
    â€œI don’t
know
know it,” Maisie said.
    â€œExactly,” Felix said, and he climbed into his big bed, the bull’s head staring down at him.
    Maisie tried a different tactic.
    â€œDo you really think Great-Uncle Thorne would put us in danger?” she asked.
    Felix lowered the book he’d stuck his face in.
    â€œYes,” he answered and lifted the book again.
    Maisie tried to think of what else she could say to persuade her brother to go right now with her, find Great-Uncle Thorne, and open the egg.
    Felix kept reading, turning the page every now and then as if she wasn’t even standing there.
    Finally, exasperated, Maisie gave up.
    She left Samuel Dormatorio, being sure to pound her feet hard enough to make her point.

    Back in her own room, Maisie paced, trying to come up with a plan. But after a lot of pacing and thinking, she had not one single good idea.
    Why did Felix have to be so impossible sometimes?
    Maisie wished she could call Hadley Ziff and complain to her. Hadley would understand; Rayne drove her crazy in exactly the same way. But it was impossible to call someone in Buenos Aires, especially