Rebel Magisters (18 page)

“And you, Miss Newton?” he asked.

“I noticed nothing untoward. No one mentioned any activities that sounded suspicious.”

“Hmmph. I suppose it was unlikely, but it was worth trying. Thank you both.”

Once he’d gone, Flora mused out loud, “If that’s the way Boston women dress, I won’t have to do anything to my ballgown, after all, and I’ll still outshine them all.” She rose and drifted out of the room, leaving me to sigh in relief.

Henry spoke to me later that afternoon in the guise of checking up on the children’s schoolwork. “No one’s saying anything specific,” he reported, “but there’s been a steady stream of official visitors and some raised voices.”

“I think your friends have something planned for the ball,” I told him. “You should have seen the way Camilla looked when she spoke of it.”

“That may just be Camilla. She’s always been rather combative, about everything. She may merely have a romantic conquest in mind.”

I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. “Are you implying that a young lady is unlikely to have thoughts other than romance? That seems very unlike you.”

He winced. “Touché, Verity. I should know better. After all, she planned the event last night.”

“They didn’t get to make their big move with the tea ship, so I think they’re planning to use the ball to make a political statement.”

“I’m not sure what they could do without revealing their identities, since everyone there will know everyone else. Even dressing like the Mechanics won’t make for much of a disguise.”

“You should find out. You can visit your school friends. Though I imagine you’ll get quite an earful when you do. I think they’re angry at you.”

“They probably see me as a traitor,” he said with a wince. “But you’re right, I should go, and maybe I can learn something or talk some sense into them. I wish you could come with me. You’d probably be better at dealing with them than I am.”

“Alas, I am a mere governess, and I can think of no reason to go, unless Flora also comes with you. But if Flora comes with you, then you can’t talk openly. So you’ll have to go alone and bring me a full report.”

Although I tried to sound like I was teasing him, it reminded me yet again that I didn’t fit into his world. He was my closest friend, and yet I couldn’t go out in public with him without the children also being there or without sneaking around. Even if his friends had revolutionary leanings, I couldn’t openly socialize with them.

*

That afternoon, I wrote an account of the rebel “tea party.” I wasn’t sure how much credit the Mechanics wanted to take or how public they wanted to be about their magic-dampening device. I settled for saying that “unknown parties” had carried out the raid, using “mysterious means” to defeat the magical security measures. When Mary came to alert me to dinner being served in the schoolroom, I handed it to her to pass on to her contacts within the Rebel Mechanics. I definitely didn’t want my “Liberty Jones” pseudonym to go on that one, and I tried to change my writing style so the authorship wouldn’t be obvious.

The next day, I forced myself to focus on lessons with the children and a brief outing to a museum with them, even though I longed to hear what Henry had learned from Maude and Camilla. He was home when we came back from the museum, but we didn’t have a chance to speak without an audience until teatime, when I brought the children to the parlor.

Flora played the piano and the other two eagerly told their grandfather about everything they’d seen in the museum, which gave Henry the chance to ask me how the children had behaved on our outing. When it was clear that no one was paying any attention to us, he said softly, “I’m afraid I have no news. They played innocent with me, claiming they had no plans, even though I could tell they were lying. They probably suspect I’ll run straight to the Mechanics to tell them everything.”

“That’s better than them suspecting you’ll run straight to the governor.”

He gave a wry grin. “True. I suppose we’ll have to wait and see what they do. That should make the ball more interesting.” He raised his voice slightly to normal conversational level and added, “Perhaps you should assign an essay about the museum. Or would that make museum visits seem too much like a chore?”

“I would prefer that the children learn to think of museums as fun, though Olive has already announced plans to write a story about the visit, and Rollo sketched weapons while we were there.”

“That should suffice for educational merit,” he said with a nod. “Thank you, Miss Newton.” He returned to the family, and I felt a pang at his departure. Even though he was only on the other side of the room, he may as well have traveled to another country. All I could do was look at him, and I didn’t even dare do much of that with the others present.

*

When the night of the ball came around, Mary helped me dress while a proper lady’s maid was hired to prepare Flora. Mary was able to lace my corset and do up all the buttons I couldn’t reach, but she wasn’t much better than I was at arranging my hair. The two of us laughed as each of her attempted fancy styles failed horribly. Flora would have been in tears and probably hurling hairbrushes, but I knew my appearance mattered little, as long as I didn’t embarrass the family.

“A ball must be a lot of fun,” Mary mused as she tried to anchor a twist with hairpins.

“I’m going there to work,” I reminded her. “As a chaperone, I’ll mostly sit along a wall and keep my eye on Lady Flora. At my last ball, I danced one dance.” It had been with Henry, and I could still recall every moment, every sensation.

“That’s not right at all,” she said with a sniff. She studied my head and added another hairpin. “You should get that Lord Henry of yours to dance with you.”

“He might be kind enough to do so, but I’m sure he’ll be much in demand as a partner for the other ladies.” I thought he’d also be dancing with them as a way to converse about recent events under the governor’s nose.

“But you can still look at all the pretty dresses. I bet it’s like something out of a fairy story.”

“The one ball I’ve gone to was,” I admitted.

“Well, I think you look lovely, miss,” she said, admiring her work in the mirror. I had to agree with her. The simple style she’d managed to create suited me better than any of her more elaborate attempted concoctions would have. “You have a grand time.”

Henry was already waiting downstairs, dressed in white tie and tails, his unruly sandy hair somewhat tamed for the occasion. He greeted me with a big smile. “You’re wasted as a chaperone, Miss Newton. You may be too busy dancing to keep an eye on Flora.”

“I hardly think that’s likely,” I said, hoping my cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt.

“You have to promise me one dance.”

“If you insist.” I added a hasty, “Sir,” when I realized that the governor had joined us.

“Still waiting for Flora, are we?” he asked Henry. “My daughters would have missed the first half of every ball if I’d let them take all the time they wanted getting ready.”

“I believe Flora’s too eager for this ball to risk missing any of it,” Henry said.

Only then did the governor seem to notice that I was present. He turned as though he’d only just caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye, and he smiled in the way he’d greet an old friend he was glad to see. But once he turned to face me, he appeared to realize who I was, and his smile faded. “Miss Newton,” he said with a brusque nod. “You are aware of your duties?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” I bobbed a slight curtsy.

“And you’ll do what I asked you the other day? Keep your eyes and ears open.”

At that moment, Flora appeared at the top of the stairs and paused for us to admire her before she made her way slowly down the staircase. I wasn’t sure why she bothered making a dramatic entrance with only her uncle, her grandfather, a couple of servants, and me to witness it, unless perhaps she was practicing for the entrance she planned to make later that evening.

“Good, there you are,” the governor said with a grunt. “Now, stop dillydallying and come on. The carriage is waiting.”

In Which

the Ball Proves Exciting

The ball was held at a nearby mansion even larger than the place where we were staying. The ballroom might have held the house where I grew up, and its gilded and painted ceiling was so high I could barely make out what the fresco depicted. When we entered, the governor, Flora, and Henry were announced with much pomp. I hung back behind them as the assembled crowd cheered the governor’s entrance. He escorted Flora down the steps into the ballroom, Henry a few feet behind them and me trailing after the whole group. Henry shot a few glances over his shoulder at me, so I knew I wasn’t entirely forgotten.

We had seats on a dais at one end of the room, as guests of honor. The governor’s was practically a throne, and those for Henry and Flora were also grand, with velvet cushions. I had a modest chair at the rear of the dais, in Flora’s shadow. I quietly lowered myself onto it and willed myself to be invisible.

I’d thought that the last ball I’d attended had been an elaborate affair, and had scoffed at the idea that it was considered a very modest event. Now I understood why Flora had described it that way, for this ball outstripped it. Everything about it was larger: the flower arrangements, the refreshment tables, the orchestra, and the guest list.

In fact, I wasn’t sure how anyone could dance, there were so many people there. They were packed in, shoulder to shoulder. Yet somehow space cleared on the floor when the governor and Flora stepped out to begin the dancing. After the first minute or so, the floor filled again, all the dancers moving around the floor and miraculously not bumping into each other.

Flora had barely returned to her seat after the first dance when a line of young men formed to beg a slot on her dance card. She didn’t respond with much enthusiasm to any of them, but I didn’t notice her rejecting anyone. Her heart might still be with Colin, but that wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying the ball. I presumed that anyone who was invited would be considered suitable, so my presence was purely ceremonial and to show that her family was following the custom for her class.

Both Brad and Theo were in the group asking Flora to dance, which meant at least some of the rebel magisters were present. The room was too crowded to spot anyone else while they were dancing.

Flora was off on the floor again as soon as the next dance began, and it appeared that the governor was making the rounds, dancing with the various noblewomen. Henry stood and said, “I suppose I’d better ask enough women to dance that I don’t look rude. And maybe I can find out what Camilla has planned.”

“Have fun,” I instructed, trying not to feel and sound jealous. I finally spotted Camilla when she danced with Henry because both of them were tall enough to stand above much of the crowd. She wore more conventional attire, corset and all, tonight, though her gown was out of fashion. She must have been honest with the Mechanics about her family’s financial position.

I soon spotted Maude because she was definitely not dressed like anyone else at the ball. She wore a flowing Grecian-style gown that veiled her figure when she was still but that draped around her, outlining her body, as she moved. She wore her hair loose and no jewelry. I was rather impressed at the confidence it must have taken to appear like that, but she didn’t seem to notice the stares or the mutters of disapproval. I had to wonder what her rank was. Only someone immune to societal censure could get away with flying in the face of convention to that extent. She didn’t lack for dancing partners, though. Young men seemed utterly entranced, possibly because of their mothers’ disapproving scowls.

Flora returned to her seat, fanning herself, and waited for some swain to bring her a cup of punch. “That gown is practically obscene!” she said.

“Which one?” I asked.

“Lady Maude Winters—the one who called earlier in the week.”

“She seems to be properly covered. She’s showing far less décolletage than most of the ladies present.” Including Flora and even me.

“She’s clearly not wearing a corset. Aesthetic dress is fine for at home, but this is not the occasion for being such a Bohemian.” She watched for a moment longer, then said somewhat vaguely, as though she was unaware of speaking out loud, “It does look very comfortable, though.”

Flora’s partner came to claim her for the next dance, and I was left alone again. I watched the crowd, trying to determine what, if anything, the rebels might have planned. Maude was easy to track, mostly because I could follow the stares, but I couldn’t find Camilla anymore. Theo and Brad were impossible to detect in that throng because all the men were dressed alike.

Henry returned from his rounds of the dance floor and sat in Flora’s chair, closer to me. “Camilla still denies they have anything planned, but she’s a terrible liar, and she looks far too smug.”

“I think Maude might be the diversion,” I suggested.

He grinned. “You may be right. She’s certainly being noticed. We should split up and work our way around the room to see if we can overhear or see anything. Don’t worry, you’re not expected to just sit there all night. In fact, moving around to better keep an eye on your charge is customary. Go get yourself some punch.”

I rose, smoothed my skirts, and made my way down from the dais and into the throng lining the perimeter of the dance floor. It was like trying to swim upstream. As I moved, I didn’t see anyone I recognized from the night of the tea raid, and no one showed signs of recognizing me.

No one did anything so obvious as saying, “Now let’s carry out our plan.” I didn’t expect them to, though it would have made my life much easier. I made my way to the refreshment table, and an older gentleman gallantly filled a cup for me. “How are you enjoying the ball?” he asked.

“It’s rather crowded,” I said without thinking as I continued studying the faces of the people around me.

“Yes, it is. It seems everyone who’s anyone wants a glimpse of our illustrious governor. But I suppose that’s no novelty to you.”