A School for Unusual Girls (27 page)

Her chin jutted up and excitement elevated her voice. “Thomas Coke's farm is situated near my family estate. His ideas on animal husbandry were the talk of the neighborhood. I listened closely to what he said, asked questions, and convinced our steward to implement his new methods. It worked. Our farm flourished. By the second year, the estate income doubled.”

Pieces of the puzzle began to fit. “Is that why you consult with Miss Stranje's steward? You're advising him?” I hunted through the cupboards and found a dozen small vials to hold the new ink.

“He's Captain Grey's steward, but, yes. We've made significant improvements here in less than a year.”

Truly amazed, I plunked the bottles on the table. “That's remarkable. Surely you don't regret any of that?”

“What I regret, is having
told
anyone. You see, I invested the extra capital from the estate and tripled our gain. It turns out I have a passable ability to manage finances.”

“Tripled it? More than passable, I should think.” I checked the dampened note. It had finally dried and still showed no signs of the invisible writing.
Success
.

“If only I'd kept that news to myself, things would have gone along famously.” Jane glanced at the evening sky darkening outside our window. “We have to hurry.” She fanned the developing solution to make it cool faster.

I thought of my two older brothers. Sadly, they were nothing like Robbie. They cared only for trifling with ballet dancers, parading about town like peacocks, and gambling at White's. Easy to guess what would happen without my father's reins on their pocketbooks.

“You told your brothers?” Poor Jane. I glanced up from preparing the bottles, holding my breath, dreading her answer.

“Yes. I thrust my success under their noses. Scolded them for their excesses. Tightened the purse strings. I badgered them about wasting their lives and squandering money on cards and light-skirts.” Jane handed me a funnel. “How stupid I was to think they would listen to me, their little sister.” Her lips clamped into a hard-buttoned line.

“They sent you away, here, so they could plunder the estate, didn't they?” My hand trembled as I poured invisible ink into the dozen small vials.

“It'll be all right, Georgie.” Jane steadied the funnel for me. “I should've anticipated it. I knew what they were. If only I'd kept my foolish mouth shut.”

“No.” I shook my head. “No one could've predicted such deceitful and irrational behavior.” I pressed corks into each of the bottles.

“That's just it, I could've. Pride blinded me. I was so certain they'd be impressed. So certain of their gratitude. So certain they would listen to me.” She smiled mirthlessly. “Undoubtedly, by now my dear brothers have run through their funds and bankrupted the estate. Any day, I expect Miss Stranje to tell me there is no more money arriving to pay for my education.”

I packed the vials into a small box, and cushioned them with cotton wadding. “At least when that happens, you will get to go home.”

“That is the
last
thing I wish to do.” She stepped back and stared at me as if I'd run mad to even suggest such a thing.

I blinked and clutched the table with both hands, hanging on for balance. With a shock, I understood. I no longer had a desire to return home, either.

 

Seventeen

THE CASSANDRA COMPLEX
I
TY

“Jane!” Sera burst into the stillroom. “Tess says to run straightway and find a ball gown that'll fit Georgie.” Pausing to catch her breath, Sera turned to me and thrust a flour sack into my hands. “Here, I wheedled this out of Cook. It's food for your journey. Cheese, apples, and sliced chicken.”

“Thank you.” I set the bag on the table. “However did you get anything more than a crumpet out of that terrifying woman?”

“Cook isn't so bad.”

I knew better.

“Sit.” Sera pointed to a chair. “I'm supposed to fix your hair.”

“There isn't time for that nonsense,” I said.

“It's a ball. They won't let you in the door looking like this.”

She was right. “Very well, but hurry.” I dropped onto the chair.

Maya scurried in, her arms laden with brushes and combs, ribbons, a mirror, and her miraculous pomade. They set to work, weaving, plastering, and binding my troublesome locks into a splendid Grecian coiffure. They were sticking the final pins into place when Jane returned carrying a satchel.

“My best gown.” She opened the top so I could see a tuft of green silk embroidered with beautiful white scrollwork.

I stood up ready to go. Grateful for their help, I spoke without thinking, “Thank you. You've made me feel like Cinderella.” Except she hadn't put thousands of lives in danger.

“This is no fairy tale.” Jane closed the bag and frowned. “It's more like you're Cassandra running to warn the Trojans about the big wooden horse full of soldiers who plan to burn the city.” She pressed the bag into my hand. “Let us hope you have better luck than she did.”

I needed more than luck. I caught the corner of my lip. Too much hung in the balance.

Sebastian's life.

Our homeland
.

Tess's prophesy led me to suspect Napoleon might yet find a way to proceed with his plans to attack England. Although, banished to Elba, we ought not underestimate the Emperor Napoleon's reach. As Father put it, the man didn't know when to give up. I couldn't help but picture my family estate taking cannon fire, and Stranje House under siege. My knees suddenly felt like boiled leeks.

“This way.” Sera hastened me out the side door. She pointed to a coach waiting at the far end of the drive. I'd expected a horse. In fact, I'd expected to see Tess astride Zeus. The idea of hanging on behind her while we galloped that huge stallion all the way to London had been daunting.

I ran down the drive and the coach door swung open. Lord Ravencross, a very angry-looking Lord Ravencross, sat across from Tess inside the coach. Despite his scowl he looked remarkably handsome in his dress uniform. “Get in,” he barked, offering me a hand without lowering the steps.

I clambered up, attempted to dodge his knees, bumped first the door and then his bad leg, as I lugged in Jane's satchel, my reticule carrying the ink vials, and the bag of food. Finally, I settled next to Tess. Neither of them greeted me. Tess leaned against the far corner with her face turned away from both of us. Lord Ravencross yanked the door shut and rapped on the roof. The coachman sprang the horses.

“I thought we were going on horseback?” I asked.

They said nothing in response. They did, however, exchange venomous glances at each other before turning to stare out of opposite windows like two brooding children.

“Thank you for the use of your coach, my lord.” I gripped Jane's satchel beside me as we went over a rut in the road. “Did you tell your coachman to hurry? Did you explain that lives depend upon it?”

He nodded and cast a sidelong look at Tess.

I needn't have worried about speed. We traveled at a breakneck pace. The carriage practically flew down the rutted road, bounding over bumps and potholes and veering sharply around curves. I held the ink cradled in my lap and with my other hand clutched the ceiling strap to keep from bouncing off the seat.

For nearly an hour, no one said a single solitary word. The atmosphere inside grew more and more tense with every mile. The seats were of fine leather, soft, luxuriously padded, and the carriage well-sprung, but given the hostility crackling between Tess and Ravencross, riding on horseback may have been more comfortable, after all.

By the time we hit the outskirts of London, the night turned black and deep with fog. Our coachman slowed the horses to accommodate for limited visibility and increased traffic as hundreds of carriages converged onto the too-narrow streets. Our speed reduced to a crawl. Too slow. I tapped my foot. If only it didn't take forever to get across London. Bouncing my leg impatiently, I considered getting out and running ahead to clear the path. But of course that would only succeed in getting me trampled or lost in the fog.

Desperate for a distraction, lest I go mad with anxiety, I grabbed the food sack and slung it onto my lap. “Sera packed food for our journey. Meat, bread, and cheese.”

I held it open to Tess. No reply.

“She finessed it out of Cook. No mean feat, as I'm sure you must realize.” I had no stomach for any of it, but perhaps she did. I continued to hold out the bag to Tess. “We do have a long night ahead of us.”

She shrugged and said nothing.

“Are you hungry, my lord?” I fished out an apple and offered it to him.

He shook his head in curt refusal.

“Very well.” Tess smacked her hand against the leather seat and snatched the apple out of my hand. “I'll have one of those.”

The way she held the apple made me think she planned to heave it at Lord Ravencross. But she didn't. She held on to the apple and threw words at him instead. “For your information,
My Lord High-and-Mighty,
I was only going to borrow Zeus. You know perfectly well I would have brought him back in the morning.”

Lord Ravencross turned, and despite the dim light, his eyes seemed to blaze as he narrowed them solely on her. “You are aware, are you not, that it is customary to hang horse thieves?”

“Then hang me.” With a haughty toss of her head, Tess chomped into the apple.

It was my duty to intercede. “My lord, this entire situation is my fault. Tess would never have tried to borrow your horse if I hadn't begged her to do it. Which I would not have done if this weren't a matter of grave importance. Extremely urgent—”

He turned an almost desperate expression on me. “Do you think I would be carting the two of you off to London for any other reason?”

I shook my head and regretted breaking the silence.

He glanced sideways at Tess. To my surprise, a splash of yearning and boyish tenderness weakened his features, betraying him. “She wouldn't tell me anything, other than Lord Wyatt's life depended upon me and it was my duty to King and country.” Clearly, his reasons for escorting us had more to do with Tess than King or country. An instant later, his face hardened into his customary mask of anger. “I owe Lord Wyatt a debt of some consequence”—he glowered at his lame leg—“so I could hardly refuse.”

Tess munched on the apple and didn't say another word until we rumbled across the cobblestones on Queen Street. As if Ravencross had never said a cross word to her, Tess chirped as gaily as a lark in summer, “Thank you for your escort, my lord. You may set us down at the corner of St. James's Square.”

He bristled at her request. “I think not. What do you intend to do, beg admittance at Lady Castlereagh's door? The servants will toss you out on your ear.”

“I have no intention of
begging,
” Tess said, lingering on the last word.

He shifted uncomfortably, frowning at the haughty tilt of her chin.

“Well, I don't mind begging,” I said, collecting the satchel into my lap. “We need to hurry. I will plead for the both of us.”

“No need.” Tess hefted a small carrying case at her feet and announced with pride. “I brought a rope.”

“A rope?” Lord Ravencross and I exclaimed simultaneously.

My stomach cinched into a tight knot. This did not bode well. “What do you intend to do with a rope?”

Tess jabbed me with her elbow. “I'll thank you to show a little confidence. I've gotten you this far, haven't I?”

Actually Lord Ravencross had gotten us this far, but I had no desire to argue. “How—”

“It's simple.” She smiled, looking quite pleased with herself. “All we need to do is slip around back and find a dark section of the building. Then I'll scale the wall to the third-floor balcony.”

Ravencross snorted. “Brilliant.”

“I'll have you know,
My Lord Grouchy-Bear,
I happen to be particularly adept at scaling walls. I have done it before.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt,
Miss Horse-Thief
.”

She shrugged. “I'll climb the wall and then hoist you up, Georgie. We'll change into our ball gowns in the dark of the balcony and enter through the deserted bedroom.”

Unable to hold back any longer, I said, “Climbing the wall does not seem a practical plan. What if you fall? And hoisting me up with a rope…” I shook my head. “What makes you think the bedroom will be deserted?”

“Bound to be,” she said with utter confidence. “Because everyone will be attending the festivities in the ballroom. And there you have it.” She snapped her fingers. “Easy as peas on a knife. We'll slip in and blend with the other guests, locate Lord Wyatt, and proceed with the business at hand.”

Ravencross closed his eyes tight for a moment, and to his credit he composed himself before speaking. “Outstanding plan.” He clapped—two dull pats of his gloved hands. “And if you get caught? You do realize that breaking into the minister of foreign affairs' home would be considered treason.”

The leather seat squeaked as Tess squirmed beside me.

He leaned forward and stared directly at her. “In which case, when I caught you in the stable with Zeus, I may as well have strung you up myself and saved
King and country
the expense of a hangman.” He stared at her neck, as if distracted by the ghostly specter of an imaginary rope.

Tess's hand fluttered to her throat, but she quickly withdrew it and crossed her arms defiantly. “I suppose you have a better idea?”

I earnestly hoped he did, because hers was a disaster, and the best I could come up with was slipping in through the servants' entrance.

“Yes.” He sat back and crossed his arms, too. “Next year I'll be twenty-one, old enough to take my seat in the House of Lords. Lord Castlereagh needs all the supporters he can get. I think my title should be enough to gain us admittance.”