Etiquette & Espionage (31 page)

“How did you…?” she started to ask; then she remembered. Monique’s
friend.

She has a teacher, or something like it, working with her, of course! They must have sent the message for her, from Bunson’s. Perhaps I can somehow take advantage of this, follow her.
“It’s going to be a very interesting event,” said Sophronia slyly. “Very interesting indeed.”

Monique’s face sharpened. “Are you meddling, little girl? I wouldn’t meddle in things that don’t concern you.”

“Isn’t that exactly what we are being trained to do?”

Monique stepped in close, and Sophronia felt a prick at her throat. Under cover of full sleeves and bonnet ribbons, the older girl pressed a very sharp metal hair stick into Sophronia’s neck. “Accidents will happen.”

Sophronia was not to be cowed. She jerked away. “So will discoveries,” she hissed before moving swiftly on to Lady Linette’s. Monique followed her. She was no longer worried for her family;
Monique wouldn’t tell anyone the hiding place.
She wants to retrieve the prototype herself. She wants to stay in control of the operation. That’s what I’d want.

The other girls were already seated. They were looking, Sophronia realized, far better than they had in September. Dimity’s curls were more controlled. Preshea’s expression was not so sour, and Agatha had a nice piece of lace about her neck. Even Sidheag had improved her posture. Sophronia wondered what changes had been wrought upon her own appearance.

Lady Linette entered a few minutes after Monique, almost late for her own class. She looked harried underneath her copious frills and layers of face paint. “Ladies, it has come to our attention that someone tampered with the record room last night. Have any of you information to impart?”

The girls all looked at one another.

Monique raised her hand. “Sophronia, Dimity, Sidheag, and Agatha have been very subversive lately.”

Lady Linette turned blue eyes upon Monique. “Indeed, Miss Pelouse? Have you overheard anything concrete?”

“No, Lady Linette.” Monique shifted in her seat.

Lady Linette turned her attention to Sophronia. “Have you ladies been plotting?” Sophronia had no idea why she should be selected as the representative of the group, but supposed it was a fair cop. They did, as a general rule, tend to be her schemes.

She said, “I’m attempting to get them invited to my sister’s ball. That’s why I keep trying to sendtryene a message home.”

“Of course you are. But not Miss Buss or Miss Pelouse?”

Sophronia shrugged. “Mumsy won’t let me ask
everyone
. I mean to say, what comes next—the entire school?”

Monique looked prim. “I already have an invitation. I don’t need Sophronia’s help.”

Dimity gave Sophronia a very worried look.

Sophronia remained impassive. “Oh, yes? I didn’t know you knew my sister.”

“Nor did I,” interjected Lady Linette. “Considering Miss Pelouse’s last sojourn into your abode was under false pretenses, she will have to plan her outfit carefully. And you ladies, do you think you are ready for a ball so soon in your careers?”

Sidheag shrugged. Dimity nodded enthusiastically. Agatha stared at her hands.

Lady Linette sighed audibly. “Nothing to do with the record room, then, ladies?” She directed the full focus of her attention on Sidheag, of all people. “Are you certain you didn’t see anything in particular?”

Sidheag looked at Sophronia with a slight air of contrition and shrugged. Sophronia frowned.
What does Sidheag have to feel guilty about?

“Is anything missing from the record room?” asked Sophronia.

“A quill, but nothing else.” Lady Linette redirected the query to become a teaching session. “So what do we believe an infiltrator might have been after, ladies?”

“Information,” said Preshea promptly. “It is a record room.”

“Exactly, Miss Buss. Very good.”

“The culprit has to be someone already on board school
grounds,” added Sophronia. “Unless infiltrators can get on and off without the mechanicals noticing.”

“Good, Sophronia.”

“That’s why you are interrogating the students.”

“Lady Linette.” Dimity straightened up. “Are the records of students kept in that room?”

Lady Linette nodded.

Sophronia, seeing where Dimity might be steering the conversation, said, “So the culprit wanted to see information, change information, or steal information. Which means a vested interest. Older student, perhaps, skilled enough to get in, with something at risk?”

Sophronia stopped herself there, not wanting to push her luck, and carefully didn’t look at Monique. Casting blame elsewhere was a classic misdirection tactic, but it had to be practiced with care. Particularly as it was Lady Linette who had explained the technique to her.

“So can Agatha, Sidheag, and Dimity come with me to my sister’s ball? Are they socially skilled enough for public exhibition?” Sophronia asked, hoping to change the subject now that she had planted a seed of suspicion.

“If their parents approve. You’ll have to wait until we exit the gray. Now, what to teach today? Oh, yes.
Posture
.”

That evening, Monique de Pelouse and a few of the older girls were taken in for questioning by Lady Linette, Professor Lefoux, and Professor Braithwope. A new rumor instantly sprang up that Monique was the one who had broken into the record room, supposedly to doctor her files over failing to finish.

“It’s a great rumor,” said Dimity proudly when they were henratsafely back in their room, changing for dancing lessons. “Did you stash some of that rose perfume oil in her room?”

Sophronia grinned. “Of course.”

“Nice to get a little of our own back.” Dimity was busy rinsing out their now vinegar-scented underthings in the washbasin.

“How do you think Monique managed to get invited to my sister’s ball?”

Dimity said, “Connections. Your father belongs to some kind of gentlemen’s club, doesn’t he?”

“Don’t all fathers?” Sophronia finished with the bacon grease and the sewing scissors and fed the excess fat to Bumbersnoot, who belched black smoke appreciatively.

“A note from Monique to her darling papa right after we arrived here, and your mother is sending out one extra invitation to one bony blonde.”

“No, I mean how’d she get the note off the ship?”

“Oooh, good question. She had help?”

“She had help.”

“Who?”

“Now that, Dimity, is a really good question.” Sophronia wandered over to assist in wringing out the clothing. Dimity had clearly never even observed a washing day, let alone scrubbed clothing herself; she handled it so tentatively it was as though the fabric might be seized with a spirit of disapproval and administer a wet slap across her face.

“This could turn out to be a good thing,” Sophronia said.

“How so? Monique is sure to be better-dressed and have more dances than us.”

“She could lead us right to where she hid the prototype.”

“We’ll have to keep an eye on her the entire ball.”

“What an unpleasant thought. Still, there are four of us and only one of her.”

“With years’ more training.”

Sophronia made herself sound confident. “We did pretty well last night.”

Dimity nodded. “Although I thought in Lady Linette’s class that Sidheag might break.”

Sophronia nodded. “I know. It’s not like her. What do you think that was about?”

Dimity shook her head.

Sophronia slumped onto her bed. Or, to be more precise, she slumped down into her corset, which didn’t allow for very much slumping. Then, after a moment’s thought, she stood and left their room, heading for Sidheag and Agatha’s.

Sidheag wasn’t there, but Agatha let her in.

“Sophronia?”

“Could I have a little look out of your window, please, Agatha?”

“Well, um, if you like.”

Sophronia went over to the window. She had to stand on Sidheag’s bed to see out of it. It was one of those tiny portholes, like the ones on seafaring steamers.

“Sophronia, what are you doing on my bed?” came a sharp question.

“Good afternoon, Sidheag. Interesting how I can see right over to that outer balcony.”

“Is it interesting?”

“A balcony, mind you, that I like to use on occasion to get around. You, too, now that you’ve joined me on my climbing jaunts.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, I do.” Sophronia frowned at the tall Scotswoman. “Agatha, would you give us a moment of privacy?”

“You aren’t going to argue, are you? That’s what Papa always says before he yells at Mama. Please don’t argue. We’ve all been getting along so well.”

“Agatha!” said Sidheag sharply.

Agatha let herself out of the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Sophronia said, “I know you’re not happy here, Sidheag, but I never would have pegged you for a turncoat.”

Sidheag looked uncomfortable. “I thought you’d deny it and there would be an end to the matter.”

“I wasn’t trained up enough yet to know that denial was the best course of action.”

“So you got into trouble. Sorry about that.”

“Sorry? That’s all I’m allowed?”

“You just did exactly the same thing to Monique. Worse, because she didn’t actually do it.”

“She deserved it.”

“I thought at the time that
you
deserved it. Why should you go climbing out at all hours while the rest of us were trapped in our rooms?”

“I wish you’d admitted it was you earlier. Perhaps Monique isn’t as bad as I think.”

“Oh, she is.”

Sophronia sighed. She wasn’t really angry at Sidheag—more concerned about what it said about her new friend’s character.

Sidheag’s look went from militant and defensive to slightly apologetic. She sat on the other bed, facing Sophronia. Sidheag was no Dimity, to flop and lean affectionately on her shoulder.

“I didn’t want you to know it was me. I thought you’d hate me for it.”

“What did you do it for, then, Sidheag?”

“I thought it would show them what a bad fit I was for this school. A school like this ought to punish scandalmongers. Instead they acted disappointed and put a note in my record. I did genuinely think you’d deny it, too. Then it would be your word against mine and nothing would come of it. I didna ken I’d grow to like you at all.”

“You’re not going to make it through, are you, Sidheag? I mean to say, you’re tough enough, but—”

“I dinna care enough. I got home to worry over.”

“Something’s wrong with your pack?”

“Something.” Sidheag clearly didn’t want to relay the particulars.

“I take it you really don’t want to come to my sister’s ball?”

Sidheag nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly. “I should go home.”

“Um,” said a hesitant voice. The door behind them cracked open. Agatha had clearly been listening to the whole conversation.
At a school for espionage training
, thought Sophronia,
life can get very complicated.

“Yes, Agatha?” she said primly.

“Could I not go, too, then? I mean to say, very kind of you to
ask me and all, but I don’t know as I’m ready, and if Sidheag isn’t attending…” She trailed off hopefully.

“I’m certain you and Dimity ou doncan handle matters,” Sidheag said, attempting to be positive.

Sophronia wasn’t convinced, but it wasn’t in her training to object. “Once an invitation has been declined, it does not do to force your request; it’s as bad as a jilted lover pressing his suit,” Mademoiselle Geraldine had said. So Sophronia left the room with a polite farewell.

“Sidheag and Agatha won’t be coming with us to Petunia’s ball,” she said to Dimity upon returning to their room.

“Oh, why not?”

“They don’t feel ready.”

“Goodness, imagine passing up the opportunity to dress fancy and dance all night.”

“Or, more precisely, dress fancy and follow Monique around all night.”

Dimity said, “Just us two, then? This isn’t going to be easy.”

The end of the year barreled down upon them like flywaymen out of a clear blue sky. One week they were learning the last of handkerchief manipulation for fun and profit and having a special session on the language of fans with an eye toward various holiday parties, and the next week the great propellers of the school had wound up and they were no longer drifting with the mists. They left their safe haven of gray and made haste to Swiffle-on-Exe.

The teachers were jumpy. No sooner had they drifted down
and out of the cloud cover than on the horizon they could see the faint dots of airships tracking them. The school sped toward the town and the relative protection of Bunson and Lacroix’s Boys’ Polytechnique.

During the intervening two days, messages were dropped, presumably to Captain Niall and thence to the nearest post. Sophronia sent a carefully worded missive warning her family of possible flywaymen and asking them to uninvite Monique, both of which items she was tolerably certain they would ignore. She also informed them she was bringing Dimity with her.