Curtsies & Conspiracies fs-2 Read online

  “Whot? Oh, to be a female drone? Well, the reward is unparalleled. Aside from immortality, if a woman survives metamorphosis, she is automatically a queen. But there are other reasons, before the bite. Drones are protected, fed, and cared for by their vampire. After a period of menial service, they are given patronage to pursue their own desires. Vampires tend to be wealthy and powerful, so they make very good friends, whot. There are drawbacks, of course.” The professor touched his own neck, hidden under the high collar.

  After prancing up and down the stacked hatboxes several more times, Sophronia decided she could risk one more inquiry. “Could you tell us a little something about tethers, Professor?”

  Professor Braithwope considered both Sophronia and her question. “Tethers, whot? Very well, I will indulge in a digression, but only because you’ll never understand vampire etiquette if you don’t understand our limitations. Queens cannot leave their hive house, and hive-bound vampires cannot leave the vicinity of their queen. How far they can go depends mainly on age, but it’s generally no more than a borough. Rove vampires usually have the range of an entire city, but they also remain tethered to their home. They will not stray into a hive’s territory unless invited and never enter a hive house unless they have petitioned for one of their drones to be bitten by its queen.”

  Sophronia prodded further; she was wildly curious. “How does this work for you, Professor?”

  “I am tethered to this ship, but I can leave it to walk around the moor.”

  She pressed. “Are there other vampires tethered to airships?”

  “No, we are social creatures, and mine is now such a solitary life. None have followed my example. Although you ladies make it interesting, whot.”

  “What about your drones?”

  “Ah, now, ladies. This brings us back to etiquette, and the purpose of this lesson. It is rude to ask after a vampire’s drones, either in courtesy or curiosity. Drones are a bit of an embarrassment. After all, you would not ask a lady about the nature and quality of her pantry, would you?”

  All the girls in the class shook their heads emphatically.

  The vampire turned cold eyes on Sophronia, his mustache stiff with accusation. “Anything else, Miss Temminnick?”

  “What happens when a vampire goes beyond the limit of his tether?” Sophronia knew she was pushing the bounds of propriety.

  Professor Braithwope paled and stilled. If a vampire could be said to go pale. Sophronia hoped never again to see a teacher whom she respected look so frightened.

  The room hushed. Normally the vampire was such an easygoing teacher. Even Monique looked up, her coming-out ball forgotten for one brief moment.

  Eventually he said, “Nothing good, Miss Temminnick.”

  Class ended, and the girls gathered up their reticules, hats, parasols, and shawls in subdued silence. Dimity held back when the others left and waylaid Sophronia with a hand on her arm.

  “Professor Braithwope, might I have a private word?” she asked their teacher once the room cleared. “Sophronia, please stay, this concerns you.”

  “Yes, Miss Plumleigh-Teignmott. How may I help?”

  “It’s this matter of our orders from Lady Linette. You’re aware of them?”

  The vampire looked back and forth between the two girls and then nodded.

  “Well, I’m not going to do it anymore. Sophronia is my friend, and it isn’t fair.”

  “Intelligencers don’t play fair, Miss Plumleigh-Teignmott,” he replied.

  “Well, then I’m no intelligencer of merit. You may send me down, if you like. I always felt I was ill suited to this lifestyle, despite my parents. I’d rather be loyal than right.”

  Professor Braithwope smiled, showing fang. “Very interesting way of putting it, Miss Plumleigh-Teignmott, and commendable courage, whot. We had thought you were not capable of independent action. You have, thus far, been rather dragged along in Miss Temminnick’s shadow.”

  Dimity brightened. “My speaking out is a good thing? You aren’t going to report me to Lady Linette?”

  “I didn’t say that, Miss Plumleigh-Teignmott.”

  Dimity looked crestfallen. “Whatever you think is best, vulnerable one.”

  The vampire only tilted his head at Dimity’s use of the recent lesson.

  Sophronia put two and two together and looked at her friend. “You were instructed to ostracize me?”

  Dimity nodded, clearly ashamed.

  Sophronia narrowed her eyes at Professor Braithwope. Are you testing all the other debuts in the same way, or were instructions different for each girl? Is the ostracism also a test for me?

  The vampire met her speculative gaze calmly. “Did you guess, Miss Temminnick?”

  Sophronia knew better than to admit to anything. “I did think it interesting that they were all so eager to blame me for high marks and react in the same way. Even Dimity. And Sidheag, who doesn’t care for the machinations of girls.” A thought occurred to her. “Were my marks inflated in order to run this test?”

  Professor Braithwope’s mustache fluffed in amusement. “You would think of that. No, they were not. But Professor Lefoux did emphasize your superiority in order to drive a wedge. Now, ladies, run along or you’ll be late for your next lesson.”

  They exited into the hallway, and Dimity instantly linked arms with Sophronia. It felt good to have Dimity’s bubbling presence back at her side. They trotted down a hall crowded with fellow students. Agatha and Sidheag were waiting for them.

  “Tell me,” instructed Sophronia, once they were all four gathered in one corner.

  “It wasn’t our fault,” defended Dimity instantly.

  Agatha nodded. She lowered her head, trying to hide her face under her bonnet. Sidheag was characteristically nonchalant. Sophronia could almost hear the taller girl’s thoughts: So we weren’t talking to Sophronia and now we are? Ho hum.

  Dimity burbled, trying to explain. “You see, we were each taken aside individually, after our exams, and made to promise to ostracize whichever girl had the highest marks.”

  Agatha whispered, “We all thought it would be Monique.”

  Sidheag added, “She had taken the test before and had four more years training.”

  “Exactly,” jumped in Dimity. “That’s what I thought, too. Lady Linette told each of us that this was the second half of our exam. That if we didn’t do as instructed our official records would be marked incomplete.”

  “She said they’d send me down if I didn’t obey.” Agatha looked tortured. “I tried to keep Dimity in line, too.”

  Dimity nodded. “Our continued presence at the school depended upon us not speaking to you.”

  “Now we’ll probably all be dismissed,” said Sidheag brightly.

  “Better than being disloyal! Besides, you two didn’t renege, I did.” Dimity had all the conviction of one who has taken uncertain action and now must justify the consequences. She fiddled with the glittery ruby-and-gold broach at her throat—paste and gilt, of course.

  Sophronia chewed her lip. “What if I admitted you were with me last year for the record room break-in? What if they knew how well you did then? Do you think that would count in your favor?”

  Dimity was skeptical. “You would have to confess to something that we got away with. And pinned on Monique. They might count an admission against both of us.”

  “It’s all so convoluted,” said Sidheag, exasperated.

  “It always is.” Agatha was philosophically despondent.

  “I hated to do it,” admitted Dimity. “Well, right up until you scared off Dingleproops.”

  “It wasn’t him, Dimity. Please believe me. I don’t know who it was or why they set you up, but it wasn’t him, I promise you that.”

  Dimity looked nonplussed. “He said as much, but I thought I’d been the butt of some cruel joke. Who was it, then?”

  Preshea came bustling up. “If you ladies are quite finished? Sister Mattie wants to know why you aren’t in class.” />
  The girls glanced around. The hallway was empty except for them.

  Preshea said to Dimity, “I see you broke your word to Lady Linette.”

  Dimity huffed. “It was going too far. We were going too far.”

  “Far is where they will throw you.” Preshea turned away.

  “I’ll take that over being mean to a friend,” said Dimity staunchly to the girl’s retreating back. “Not that you would ever understand that, Preshea.”

  Sophronia let out a small breath of relief. She hadn’t realized until that moment how unhappy she’d been without Dimity’s friendship. She thought she’d been rattling along fine on her own, but now she noticed the knots in her stomach releasing and the undeniable sensation of wanting to cry from relief.

  Sophronia’s little band had reunited just in time. Monique’s promises of ball invitations were causing social mayhem. Snide comments and sharp elbows abounded. It was all much easier to endure now that the four of them were together again. They heard nothing from the teachers as to the repercussions of Dimity’s staunch decision, and they avoided speculating on that, at least. Everything else was fair game.

  Sophronia brought them up to speed on some of her private investigations.

  Sidheag put it together without frills, as her werewolf-trained mind was prone. “I’ve been wondering about this. Captain Niall said the vampires might be involved with Giffard’s flight? Why?”

  Sophronia said, “If Professor Braithwope can tether to an airship, so could other roves.”

  “Yes, but why now? Presumably old Prof has been doing it for simply ages.”

  “Perhaps this new ship of Giffard’s is more vampire-safe. Or perhaps it has to do with the new technology Giffard is employing. If it works, it’d be much faster than other airships. Perhaps the vampires want access to that speed. I don’t think they like to be limited.”

  Dimity looked at her friend. “I thought you were a progressive.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t know if it’s right. I mean to say, Professor Braithwope is nice, but vampires need to be kept in check, don’t you think?”

  Sidheag nodded vigorously. Dimity shrugged. Agatha looked at the floor.

  Dimity said, “Mummy and Daddy have arguments like this. When Daddy says something like that, Mummy calls him a Pickleman.”

  Sophronia nodded. “Well, I haven’t taken sides yet.”

  Agatha said, “Oh, dear, are there sides?”

  “Very likely. Speaking of your parents, Dimity, they haven’t upset anyone recently, have they? Anyone important or powerful? On either side, perhaps?”

  Dimity frowned. “I don’t think so, why? Oh, because of that odd thing with Lord Dingleproops’s letter? You think someone might be trying to influence my parents through me?”

  “It’s one explanation.”

  “I don’t know.” Dimity brightened. “I shall write and ask them directly. Or better, I’ll get Pillover to do it. They will be delighted he’s finally taken an interest in something besides Latin verse. They might even tell him something truthful. I think they gave up on me when I announced my ‘hankies for hackneys’ good works plan.”

  “What?” Sophronia was distracted.

  “London cabbies are so very often under the weather,” said Dimity with a sniff. “One does what one can.”

  “Oh, well, yes. And getting Pillover to write, good idea.” Sophronia was determined to be nice and not to take Dimity for granted ever again. Especially with the possibility that Dimity’s time at Mademoiselle Geraldine’s was soon to end. Even if Dimity had some harebrained scheme about hankies.

  Sophronia remembered last evening, when she and Vieve had spied on Professors Lefoux and Shrimpdittle. “I think Monique is somehow in on it, too. I know she’s been crowing about this ball of hers, but she’s at least involved in Professor Lefoux’s experiment as an errand girl. We should run an infiltration on her.”

  Dimity nodded. They’d taken instruction recently from Lady Linette in the planning of provocational action. Time to put lessons to use.

  “She’ll not believe it, if it were me,” said Dimity.

  Sophronia agreed. “Nor Sidheag.” The taller girl looked up at her name. “You would never change your personality so drastically as to be interested in a ball. You might betray us, but not for an invitation.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Sidheag.

  “It’ll have to be Agatha,” said Dimity.

  Sophronia and Sidheag looked doubtful. Agatha was definitely their weakest link.

  The redhead looked back and forth between them with dread in her eyes. “Oh, dear, scheming. I was afraid this would happen if we got chummy again.”

  Sophronia hunkered down conspiratorially. “You’re the only possible choice, Agatha. You need to infiltrate Monique’s group.”

  “Wait! What? Me?”

  “Yes, simply pretend you really want an invitation to her blasted ball. Start lurking on the fringes. Keep an eye on her,” instructed Sophronia.

  “Then report back to us with the details!” added Dimity triumphantly.

  “Oh, I don’t know about this.” Agatha’s eyes were huge in distress.

  “You don’t have to do anything, only watch.” Sidheag tried to be reassuring.

  “It’ll be good for you, Agatha. Show the teachers you’ve got acumen.” Dimity was optimistic.

  Agatha brightened. “Oh, do you think it might?” Unlike Sidheag and Dimity, Agatha actually wanted to stay at Mademoiselle Geraldine’s—to please her papa.

  “And,” added Dimity brightly, “it might net you an invitation to the ball.”

  That was not the right tactic. Agatha looked terrified at the possibility.

  Sophronia said hurriedly, “Oh, I don’t think Monique would, no matter what you did. I shouldn’t worry about that, Agatha.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “So, are you game?” prodded Dimity, titillated at the prospect of gossip.

  Agatha straightened and looked pugnacious. “I’ll do my best!”

  Sophronia didn’t expect much to come of it, but Agatha did try. She began, with remarkable subtlety, to lurk among Monique’s followers. She inched her way down to that end of the table at meals. She offered to loan Monique her jewelry. Agatha had a great deal of nice jewelry, the real stuff, unlike Dimity.

  Unfortunately, her reports were unsatisfactory. “The ball is all she talks of,” she kept saying, and, “When can I stop?”

  Then a few evenings later, when Dimity and Sophronia were getting ready for sleep, a demure knock sounded at their door. Dimity, in her nightgown, squeaked and dove for her bed. Sophronia, still dressed, went to answer.

  It was Agatha. “Sorry to disturb you so late, but… Monique’s gone.”

  “What?”

  “I did like you suggested and went to her room just now, pretending I wanted that necklace back. Preshea tried to hide the fact, but Monique’s not there. She’s definitely snuck off. I think it has something to do with a message she got earlier. One of the mechanicals delivered it and she went all red.”

  “Oh, goodness. Thank you, Agatha!”

  Agatha shuffled away. Sophronia closed the door and headed for her wardrobe.

  “You’re going after her?” asked Dimity.

  “Here I was, proud all this time that I was out regularly, climbing the hull, visiting sooties, and spying on teachers, not even thinking Monique might be doing the same! She had permission to be out the other night, but I never thought she was a sneak like me….”

  “Be fair, she can hardly be visiting sooties.”

  “Good point. Oh, none of this will work!” Sophronia slammed her wardrobe door. “I’m going to visit Sidheag. It’s time to follow Vieve’s example.”

  “What…?”

  Before Dimity could finish her question, Sophronia was away.

  She knocked on Agatha and Sidheag’s door, hoping to be let in before Preshea noticed. When Sidheag opened it, Sophronia pushed past and
closed the door quickly behind her.

  “Sidheag, I need to borrow clothes.”

  Sidheag blinked. “Now? It’s one in the morning.”

  “So?”

  “Nothing I have could possibly fit you. You’re shorter and curvier.”

  “Not dresses, silly. I need boys’ clothes. I thought you might have some.”

  “What?”

  Agatha looked up from the vanity, where she was brushing her hair. “You’re going after her, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. And if she’s climbing, I have to climb faster. It’s time to get rid of skirts. Now, Sidheag? Please hurry.”

  Sidheag grinned. “How sensible of you.” She dove for her wardrobe, which was in an unholy state. The act of opening the door caused a straw bonnet, a parasol, and a patchwork goose to fall out on her head. The taller girl barely noticed, batting away hats, gloves, and a single red stocking like so many gnats. She ruffled through the contents, hurling items behind her in a deliciously enthusiastic way.

  Agatha gave a whimper of distress. Her side of the room was neat as a new penny.

  “Aha!” Sidheag resurfaced, triumphant, with a pair of tweed jodhpurs, of the type country squires use for hunting, and a wrinkled man’s shirt.

  Agatha helped Sophronia out of her day gown and petticoats. Sophronia pulled on the trousers, buttoning the front and tucking her chemise in at the top. They were scandalously tight about the derriere. She put on the shirt, pushing up the sleeves. For the first time in her life, she was finding it easy to dress herself. Vieve might have something in this garb. But then, she supposed, that was because she was wearing a rather pedestrian outfit. True gentlemen need a valet to help with the cravat.

  Sidheag gave her a funny look. “You’re leaving on your stays?”

  “Of course! I haven’t lost all sense of propriety!”

  Sidheag snorted. “Corsets constrict movement. I always take mine off when I wear that outfit.”

  Sophronia gasped. “Bare?”

  “We’ve been over this before—raised by werewolves, remember? What do you think they do before they change shape?”

  Agatha gasped, then whispered softly, “You’ve seen men with no clothing?”