Rebel Magisters (14 page)

“Shouldn’t we see what’s happening?” I asked. “What if it’s the rebel magisters?”

“It may be nothing to do with any group of rebels.”

“What if it is?”

“What would we do? If we’re to carry out our missions, we have to refrain from capture or discovery.” He made a lot of sense, but it didn’t stop me from wishing to know what had soldiers rushing to the harbor. “I suppose your journalistic self can’t resist a possible story,” Henry added with a fond smile that made me wonder if he could read minds.

We made it back to the house, and Henry knocked on the service entrance. Harry the hall boy opened the door, holding a finger to his lips. We nodded in understanding and waited while he went back inside. He returned a moment later. “It’s clear. Let’s go.”

The servants’ hall was deserted except for one last scullery maid finishing the washing up. She was too engrossed in her work to notice us moving down the hallway behind her. We made it to the back stairs without being noticed. Once in the stairwell, we removed our coats and hats and waited while Harry checked upstairs. He came back and gestured for me to go first. Though I encountered no one else along the way, I still breathed a deep sigh of relief when I shut the door behind myself. I quickly undressed and got in bed, both because I needed the rest and because the sooner I was exactly where I was supposed to be, the better I felt.

*

I attempted to keep to some sort of order the next day with the younger children. Flora was so eager to hold court as the lady of the house for her grandfather that it would have been impossible to make her do anything resembling schoolwork. I was content with letting her plan the week’s meals and events with the housekeeper while I attempted to get Rollo and Olive to do their work.

When Henry came to the schoolroom that afternoon and suggested a walk to the Public Gardens, I could have hugged him. “I’m beginning to think that it was unrealistic to expect their studies to continue uninterrupted on such a trip,” I told him as we walked toward the gardens. “They’re far too distracted.”

“That was one of my objections to the trip in the first place,” he said. “But don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you if you don’t achieve miracles. Perhaps they’ll absorb something along the way.”

“Rollo did write a rather nice paper on the airship,” I admitted.

“So all is not lost.”

When we reached the gardens, we let the children run ahead while we walked more sedately behind them. “Would you be up for another excursion tonight?” he asked me, dropping his voice so it wouldn’t carry.

“Your friends?”

“I received a rather cryptic invitation this morning from the friend we were talking about at the Mechanics’ party. He said he and some colleagues need my expertise on a delicate matter.”

“What kind of expertise? Insects?”

“Probably more like larceny.”

“And you want me to come along?”

“I may need a chaperone to protect my virtue.” More seriously, he added, “He was one of my more political friends in school. He was never a Masked Bandit because he lived in Boston, but he was part of the planning, and he was the one who first inserted the idea of revolution into the scheme. I imagine he and his local friends may be planning a similar venture. This might be an opportunity for you to present the Mechanics’ perspective.”

“In that case, I’ll see if I can get Mary to arrange a similar escape for us tonight.”

*

That night after dinner, we went through the same routine of sneaking into the back stairwell, putting on coats and hats, and slipping out with the servants. This time, though, we headed a different direction, remaining in the wealthier district. The streets were lined with mansions not much smaller than the one where we were staying. We went up the front steps of one of them, and Henry pushed the bell.

The door was opened not by a servant, but by a tall girl about my age wearing loose, heavily embroidered robes that I thought must have been the aesthetic dress I’d heard about. I’d never before met anyone daring enough to forego corsets and all the layers of clothing a proper lady required. “Henry Lyndon, you haven’t changed a bit,” she said.

“Camilla?” he asked, his eyes widening slightly. “You certainly have. You’re all grown up.”

“Be sure to tell my brother that. He refuses to see it.” With a glance at me, she added, “And you brought a friend.” She didn’t sound angry about that, but she wasn’t particularly welcoming, either.

“This is Verity Newton, who’s part of my organization,” Henry said. “Verity, this is Camilla Seton, the baby sister of one of my university friends.”

“Baby, hmph,” Camilla said. “I suppose you’d better come in rather than us talking on the stoop.” She turned and headed into the house, leaving us to follow her and close the door behind us. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was so accustomed to having servants to do everything that she’d never learned how to greet guests and show them in.

From the entry foyer, I could hear the sounds of a wild party somewhere in the house. Music played, and there were shouts of laughter. Henry and I exchanged a glance, and he raised an eyebrow.

“They’re in the ballroom,” Camilla said, moving past us to lead the way up the stairs. She conjured a globe of light in the palm of her hand as she climbed into the darkness. Henry did the same. It seemed odd for there to be no light in the house, which also seemed sparse on furnishings. There were no paintings on the walls, and the niches were devoid of sculptures.

“Aren’t your parents at home, Camilla?” Henry asked. “And what about the servants?”

“My parents are abroad. The house is supposed to be closed up, but Brad and I can get in.” She turned to glance over her shoulder at Henry. The magical glow coming from below her face gave her a devilish appearance. “They think I’m at finishing school, learning to be utterly useless.”

When we reached the top of the stairs, the party sounds were even louder, and light streamed into the hallway from the ballroom at the rear of the house. Henry and I followed Camilla, who didn’t seem to care whether or not we were behind her.

I paused on the threshold to stare at the room. If I hadn’t seen Camilla using magic, I’d have thought I’d stumbled upon a Rebel Mechanics party. Most of the guests were dressed like Mechanics, in an odd mix of mismatched working wear and formal attire. The women wore either the Mechanics’ scandalous dress of shorter skirts and visible corsets or loosely flowing aesthetic gowns like Camilla’s.

But the “Mechanics” didn’t ring true to me. For one thing, they were too clean. Mechanics tended to be mechanically minded, so there were always traces of oil or soot on their hands and clothes. Some of their clothing might once have been of high quality, but it came by way of a thrift store, so it was worn and shabby. This clothing was all too new and clean. I also noticed that none of them wore the insignia of the Rebel Mechanics. I didn’t think it was a secret, but it also didn’t seem to be widely known among outsiders.

Henry and I exchanged another look. I could tell by his widened eyes and the slight wrinkles between his brows that he was as surprised by this gathering as I was. It did appear that the Mechanics had been correct about the rebel magisters impersonating them. Were they doing so to deflect suspicion, or were they emulating out of admiration?

Camilla led us to a group of young people sprawled on cushions—the only furnishings visible—in one corner of the room. “He’s here,” she announced.

A young man who was even taller than Henry rose quite gracefully from his cushion and approached us. “Lyndon! It was good luck that you happened to be in town, right when I needed you.”

“I was glad to hear from you. There was something I wanted to discuss with you, as well,” Henry said, but his friend wasn’t listening.

He veered slightly off course in his approach to Henry and went to me, instead, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles while bowing deeply. “The Honorable Bradford Seton, at your service, my dearest lady. If I’d known Lyndon was bringing someone so lovely into my presence, I’d have dressed for the occasion.” It was the sort of thing Colin would have said, but he’d have said it with a cheeky wink to show that he knew it was outrageous and that he didn’t expect anyone to take him seriously. I thought that this man might actually believe he was charming me.

I wasn’t sure how to respond. I didn’t want to insult Henry’s friend, but I was suspicious of anyone who flirted so obviously. In fact, I was getting rather tired of men insincerely attempting to charm me. Henry spared me by stepping in between us, forcing Bradford to release my hand. “Really, Seton?” he said. “Do you never stop? We’re here for business, and Miss Newton is no one to be trifled with.”

Camilla sank onto one of the cushions. “Honestly, Brad, are you trying to embarrass me?” she drawled, sounding as though the topic bored her. “We have better things to do. Now, please take a seat.” She gestured toward a couple of vacant cushions. Camilla might have been wearing loose, uncorseted aesthetic dress, but I was in proper attire for a governess, which made it difficult to sit on the floor with any grace. I had no idea how I would rise again. Camilla hadn’t taken our coats, and I realized after I was seated how warm the room was. I shrugged out of the sleeves of my coat and let it fall off my shoulders. Across the circle from me, Henry took off his own coat, folded it over his arm, and lowered himself to perch uncomfortably on a large cushion. Bradford resumed his seat on the cushion beside Henry.

Camilla pointed to the girl seated beside me. “That’s Maude.” Maude also wore flowing robes, but hers looked suspiciously like she was dressed in a nightgown. Her fair hair hung in loose curls down her back. She sat as though someone was painting her portrait, her limbs perfectly arranged and her body positioned to best show off her figure.

“And there’s Theo,” Camilla added. The young man to my right raised a hand in greeting. He had dark hair falling across his forehead and a bushy mustache. His collar was open, with no necktie, and he wore no coat.

“For those who don’t already know him, this is Lord Henry Lyndon,” Brad said. “We were mates in school.”

Introductions concluded, Camilla said, “We need to pick your brain, Henry. You might just hold the key to a little dilemma we have, and that will help us decide what we should do tonight.” I was surprised to find that she was apparently the leader of their group.

“What do you need from me?” Henry asked.

“Since you’re the expert bandit, we need your advice on how to break into a highly secured area to cause some wanton destruction of property.”

“I’m far better versed in armed robbery, I’m afraid,” Henry said. “There’s not much finesse required in holding a gun to someone’s head.”

“But surely you indulge in some subterfuge to get into places you want to rob and get out of them without being identified or caught,” Brad said. “I remember all the planning sessions. How do you sneak in before they have their guards up? And do you ever encounter magical security measures?”

“Normally we slip in as people who might be expected in such a place, put on our masks, re-emerge for the holdup, slip away, remove the masks, and then blend in with the rest of the people there. We don’t usually have to worry about security measures.”

“So you’ve never had to break into a bank vault? Or, say, board a ship that’s under heavy guard?” Camilla asked.

“Never,” Henry said. “What’s this all about, anyway?”

“A small symbolic demonstration,” Maude said. “It’s time we sent a clear message to our Imperial overlords that we will no longer tolerate their tyranny, and with the governor in town, the timing is apt.” It seemed strange to hear such fiery rhetoric coming from such a delicate-looking creature, but I supposed that must be her camouflage, the way Henry’s absentminded amateur scientist persona was his.

“You know about the tea tax?” Theo asked.

“Yes, that’s why the rebels won’t drink tea,” I replied.

“There’s a ship in the harbor with a load of tea, and we aren’t going to let it be unloaded to be taxed,” Maude said. “We’re going to reject British tea and all the taxes it represents.”

“Only there’s one tiny problem,” Camilla said. “We can’t get to the ship.”

“That’s what was going on at the harbor last night,” I guessed.

“The mission was a failure,” Maude said. “We couldn’t get past the security, and we drew enough attention that I’m sure the security will be tighter now.”

“Then perhaps you need to rethink this mission,” Henry said.

“Says the man who robs trains,” Brad said.

“Yes, and when we nearly got caught, we stopped for a while. We didn’t go back to the same place to try again. What are you even trying to accomplish?”

A larger crowd had formed around us as people stopped their drinking and dancing to come listen to the discussion. The music stopped playing, and even the musicians joined the circle.

“Last night’s failure doesn’t have to mean the end of our venture,” Camilla said, raising her voice to address the whole group. “We can still make our point about taxation. Yes, I know it’s purely symbolic. Tea has been unloaded and the import duty paid before. But the royal governor is here in Boston, so he would surely hear of this action. We must make our voices heard!”

“And what happens then?” one of the few men not dressed as a Mechanic asked. “Do you really think we’ll suddenly be granted seats in Parliament, or the social order will be altered? Or will they tighten their grip even more?”

One of the men dressed like a Mechanic stepped forward, and if I hadn’t already been sure that he was no true Mechanic, his speech would have given him away. He sounded too polished, almost affected. “Oh, we might make the Empire angry? What will they do to us? Take away our representation in Parliament? We don’t have any to begin with. Raise our taxes? How much higher can they go? Every good we could possibly need is already taxed. Control our press? Try publishing something without the official stamp. Limit our choices in the way we live our lives? That’s been happening for centuries. What can they do to make our lives
more
miserable?”