A School for Unusual Girls (18 page)

“Yes,” Lady Pinswary demanded. “Why didn't you?”

Alicia Pinswary's dog barked as if expecting an answer, too.

“It was raining.”
Lightly misting really, but I couldn't allow water to corrupt the ink formula
.

Lady Pinswary sniffed. “Surely, your mother keeps a stillroom where you might try new recipes?”

“No, my mother has no interest in such things.”
Nor in my need to experiment
. “I had thought if I kept the flames low there would be no danger.” My shoulders sagged and I shook my head in shame. “But, as you said, there was too much straw. Dried bits of it floating everywhere. A spark ignited, and…” I stopped the tale there. No sense explaining that my formula burst into flames. That would ruin the illusion that I'd been cooking up a pudding of some kind.

I cringed, remembering how flaming muck had splattered everywhere. Until that very moment, I'd blotted out the memory of the fire snaking across my worktable and spilling onto the floor. Nor had I remembered the orange flames licking all around me, the crackling tongues of fire gobbling up straw. I'd forgotten screaming for our grooms as I tried to beat out flames with a horse blanket. Forgotten how the smoke seared my nostrils and stung my lungs. Forgotten slapping at the embers alighting on my skirts. How in heaven's name had I blotted out the high-pitched whinnying of the terrified horses as we flung blankets over their heads and urged them out to safety?

Mine wasn't simply a failed experiment. The grooms could have been killed. The horses. All of us. Burned alive.

“Are you unwell?” Sera asked.

I couldn't answer. The parlor moved in dizzying wobbles. Sebastian rushed to my side and guided me to a chair. I sat down, breathing in stops and starts, stunned, shocked, but most of all, repentant. No wonder my parents wanted to be rid of me.

I am a menace.

Lady Daneska stared at me, no doubt judging me for the fool I was. “You must tell us, Miss Fitzwilliam, what was this most important recipe for which you were willing to risk everything.”

There it was. The one question I couldn't answer honestly without telling her about the ink. “It … I—”

Miss Stranje cleared her throat loudly.

“Enough questions,” Sebastian ordered. “The trauma of recalling those tragic events has overset Miss Fitzwilliam. We ought not to tax her anymore with these painful memories.”

Lady Daneska's attention snapped to him. “How very solicitous of you, Lord Wyatt. I did not know you were so well acquainted with Miss Stranje's new guest.”

“We've only just met. But surely anyone can see—”

“Yes,” she said, and smiled, looking quite satisfied. “Anyone can see.”

She knows
.

Except, she couldn't. It was impossible. She could only guess all this had something to do with him.
Does she know Lord Wyatt is a spy?
Supposing she did, she couldn't possibly know what I'd been brewing that day. Not unless my mother unwittingly …

I turned to Lady Pinswary. “Pray, did your cousin say anything more about the accident?” The minute the words escaped my mouth I wanted to grab them and stuff them back down my throat. I sounded far too desperate.

Lady Daneska gave her aunt no opportunity to answer me. “No, no, Miss Fitzwilliam, poor dear, you are too overwrought. We must have no more questions about that dreadful day,
n'est-ce pas
? Only look at Lord Wyatt, your knight most chivalrous. I think he would bite off our heads if we dared ask more, no?” She stood up and smoothed out her skirt. “I fear our fifteen minutes have flown by.”

Lady Pinswary set down her plate and followed her niece's lead, flicking crumbs off her gloves as she stood. She steered her daughter in Lord Wyatt's direction. Miss Pinswary curtseyed prettily.

“You must pay us a visit, my lord.” Lady Pinswary nudged her daughter closer, but the puppy started to bark. Sebastian backed away and Miss Pinswary darted to the door. Her mama gave up and turned to me. “I trust you won't do any more cooking while you are here in Fairstone Meade?”

I blinked. Only yesterday, I'd been boiling up a new emulsion. How could I answer truthfully?

Miss Stranje smiled. “Not to worry, my lady. I keep a well-appointed stillroom should Miss Fitzwilliam decide to try out another new recipe.”

Lady Daneska gave Sera a farewell kiss and said quietly, “
Adieu
. You will tell Tess and Jane that I forgive them, yes?”

Sera tilted her head, puzzled. “If you mean you want me to ask them to forgive you, that is something you must do for yourself.”

“No matter.” Lady Daneska waved away Sera's dispute and laughed carelessly, sounding like small icicles shattering against stones. She turned to our headmistress. “My dear Miss Stranje, what interesting company you keep.”

“High praise coming from you, my lady.”

“Yes. Most interesting. You like playing with the hornet's nest, I think.” She strolled toward the door but stopped beside me. “And to what end, I wonder.” Lady Daneska studied me with all the warmth of a feral cat. “Miss Fitzwilliam, you are a curiosity. We shall visit again when you are less indisposed or—is the word discomposed?” She shrugged and with a cheery grin said, “My English, it is so bad. Ah, well,
c'est la vie
.”

On the contrary, I'd begun to think her English was perfect, except when she chose to play at French.

Lady Pinswary sniffed and looked down her bulbous nose at me. “Heed my advice, young lady, and take up knitting. Less peril for the rest of us.”

I meekly nodded.

“I don't know.” Sebastian rubbed his chin skeptically and in a deadly serious tone said, “Those needles look awfully sharp.”

Lady Daneska gave him a playful tap on the arm and her pert little lips turned up in a beguiling smile. “With you, always the clever remark.
Le danse du sabre
. We must meet again, my lord, soon.”

He smiled back.

I wanted more than anything to throw a chair cushion at her. And at him, too. I caught Miss Alicia Pinswary watching me too intently. She quickly looked away and made a fuss over stuffing her pup into the reticule. But there was no mistaking that vicious little grin she tried to hide. She'd observed my jealousy. No doubt, she and Daneska would have a jolly good laugh about that on the way home.

I wanted to crawl under the sofa and never come out.

Miss Stranje curtseyed in farewell to Lady Pinswary and Lady Daneska. “Do come again. Your visits are always so very”—she paused—“diverting.”

Daneska laughed, but for the first time it sounded genuine. No delicate heavenly peal, this was a scratchy crow of triumph.

 

Eleven

SHE KNOWS

Lady Daneska left me drowning in uncertainty. As soon as Miss Pinswary and her yapping dog made their exit, I dropped onto the sofa. “I failed. She knows.”

Miss Stranje pressed a finger to her lips, waiting until the sound of the front door shutting echoed through the drawing room. She seemed distracted. Where was her scold? I expected her to berate me for not being discreet enough, for tipping my hand. Instead, she rubbed her palms against her skirt as if wiping away grime.

Captain Grey caught her elbow. “You're worried.”

“No, I'm pleased.” She smiled up into his concerned face. “All in all, I think it went quite well, don't you?”

He stared at her thoughtfully for a moment. “That isn't precisely how I would've summed it up. Miss Fitzwilliam is right. Lady Daneska knows something.”

“She does.” Lord Wyatt gripped the frame of the settee. “What's more, Miss Fitzwilliam stumbled upon a pertinent question. What else might have been in that letter to Lady Pinswary?”

Stumbled
. I did not stumble upon it. It was a perfectly logical question. I crossed my arms and frowned, not that the scoundrel would notice.

Miss Stranje shook her head. “In all likelihood it was only her busybody cousin, spreading a piece of spiteful gossip.
Surely
.”

I hoped she was right. “Mother detests my experiments. My scientific pursuits are an embarrassment to her. Weighing that into the equation, I doubt she would have mentioned that one of my experiments caused the blaze.”

“That would also explain why your neighbors suspect a more malicious motive.” Miss Stranje brightened. “There you are—a perfectly logical conclusion.”

Logical. See there, Sebastian, not everyone dismisses my mental capability as mere stumbling.

“Come now, we've nothing to worry about.” Miss Stranje absentmindedly caught Captain Grey's hands in hers. “Lady Daneska is only conjecturing at this point.” She glanced down at her fingers wrapped around his, flushed pink, and let go of him immediately. Captain Grey's hands remained extended to her a moment longer, as if he thought she might grasp them again.

Instead, she whirled to face me. “Miss Fitzwilliam, you did quite well today, especially for someone with no training.”

“I did?”

“Yes. I must say, your quick thinking impressed me.
The cook wouldn't let you in
.” She smiled, looking almost girlish. “A brilliant tactic.”

“It was the simple truth,” I confessed. “Not a stratagem.”

“Ah, I see.” She nodded. “The truth can be highly effective.”

Effective?
For what? Deception? I struggled to grasp her meaning.

“We were fortunate today. Lady Daneska, for all her cleverness, inadvertently revealed more than she realized. Although, it is rather evident that she is…” Miss Stranje's confident words trailed off, her brow creased again.

“Up to something,” Sebastian finished for her. Deep in thought, he paced and muttered as if no one was really listening, “Obviously she'd like to put an end to your school, but there was more.”

Sera held a throw pillow on her lap and toyed with the fringe. “Something to do with Lord Ravencross.”

“Undoubtedly.” Sebastian tapped the back of our sofa as if marking several facts and then resumed his pacing.

The captain shot him a quelling look and led Miss Stranje to her chair. “Let us put the matter aside for a moment.” He leaned over the tray of food and rubbed his palms together. “What do you say, ladies? Shall we enjoy some tea and biscuits?”

Sebastian ignored Captain Grey's attempt to distract Miss Stranje. “Did you notice? At one point she looked as if she'd like to run Ravencross through with a pike.”

Sera nodded. “Yes, when she wasn't shamelessly flirting with him.”

Head down, still treading a path on the Turkish carpet, Lord Wyatt grunted in agreement. “Of course, she would hate him, wouldn't she, if she was privy to the circumstances of Lucien's death.”

Lucien?
“Lord Ravencross's older brother?” I wondered. “How did he die?”

Sebastian glanced at Captain Grey, who nodded permission.

“It's not a secret,” Sebastian began. “We tracked Lucien, who was, of course, Lord Ravencross at the time, to a farmhouse in Mockern north of Leipzig. Gabriel, his younger brother, was encamped nearby with a unit of the Royal Horse Artillery. We snuck him behind the lines, hoping he could meet with Lucien and make him see reason. Regrettably, Lucien did not appreciate his younger brother's intrusion. After a heated exchange, he got angry and drew his sword. Slashed Gabriel's leg to the bone.” Sebastian grabbed his own sword hilt. “Gabe had no choice. He had to fight back. By the time we broke in the house Lucien was dead and Gabriel lay barely alive. We pulled him out before Lucien's men had a chance to finish him off.”

“His own brother,” I murmured.

“It was awful.” Sera nodded. “Tess saw the fight in one of her nightmares.”

Why had the former Lord Ravencross turned against England, I wondered. “What made him so furious he was even willing to murder his brother?”

Captain Grey cleared his throat. “Enough of this.”

There were a dozen more questions I wanted to ask. Had Lady Daneska been in love with the former Lord Ravencross? In what capacity had he served Napoleon? However, this was not the time to ask, and I doubted any of them would indulge my curiosity.

I suddenly realized this line of conversation meant Sebastian and Captain Grey had observed Lady Daneska talking with the present Lord Ravencross, even though that conversation occurred before they entered the room. Which meant they, too, had been watching, but from where?

Twisting and craning my neck, I searched the walls for another tapestry or silk hanging they might've been hiding behind. I caught Sebastian observing me. He pointed. “Screen beside the mantel.”

I squinted at the ornate ductwork. I'd thought it merely a heat vent, but the metal grid would provide a perfect vantage point. “Of course.” I tried to appear sophisticated and not at all surprised.

“Tea,” Captain Grey reminded all of us. Sebastian bristled as he settled on the sofa beside me. Miss Stranje silently poured. After we were all served, Captain Grey said very softly, “Something else is troubling you.”

Miss Stranje nodded. “A note arrived…” Captain Grey pulled his chair closer to hers and they conducted a hushed conversation.

That left the three of us, Sebastian, me, and Sera, sitting there drinking tea in awkward silence. The shortbread cookies looked ridiculously small in Sebastian's large hands, and the dainty teacup looked like a toy.

I sought for a topic we might discuss. “I'm pleased you're not still suffering ill effects from the fumes.”

He gave me a cavalier shrug.

“I worried you might be confined to your bed for several days.”

“What? Sit in bed and miss seeing you in your finery? Never.” A twitch in his cheek betrayed him.

He was making sport of me. What a widgeon I was, to think he actually found me
charming
. There was no sense pretending I was and always would be the proverbial sow's ear.