Rebel Magisters (20 page)

However, my position allowed me to watch most of the congregation. I spotted the baron a few rows back from the family and wished I had a way to point him out to Henry. It was difficult to concentrate on the sermon when I was trying to come up with excuses to talk to the baron without the governor noticing anything. Normally, my position in that household made me ideally situated as an operative, but too much proximity to the governor hampered me when it came to taking action.

I saw my chance at the end of the service when the governor’s party was allowed to leave first while everyone else had to wait. I was on the end of a pew, so I waited until the baron came along as the church emptied from the front and made eye contact with him as he passed.

Much to my relief, he recognized and remembered me. “Why, it’s my friend from the ball,” he said, holding his hand out to me. I took it and walked out with him. “Did you ever learn anything about that event?” he asked as we walked.

“I’m afraid not.” Dropping my voice, I added, “But between you and me, I have a feeling I know who was responsible, and I think they were still in high spirits after their activities earlier in the week.” I made sure to keep my tone light enough that he could tell I didn’t disapprove.

“Do I take that to mean that you’d decline an invitation to tea?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

“I suppose that would depend on how and where it is served, though I must say, I had my fill of it this week.”

He grinned. “What an astonishing young woman you seem to be, and just as I was giving up hope in the next generation.”

Neither of us could speak openly when surrounded by people who very likely wouldn’t sympathize, but I was now fairly certain we’d sounded each other out on our political views and found agreement. “I have some friends I’d love for you to meet,” I said. “I believe you’d find them invigorating. Do you ever get to New York?”

“Not too often, but if I do, I’ll have to pay you a visit. Though I don’t suppose that calling upon the governess would be welcome at the governor’s home.”

“But I don’t work for the governor. I work for Lord Henry Lyndon, who is guardian of the governor’s grandchildren, and I can assure you that you would be welcome in that home.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

As if on cue, Henry nearly ran into us when we came out the front doors of the church. “Oh dear, terribly sorry, Miss Newton,” he said. “It seems Olive left her favorite handkerchief in the church. I told the governor to go on ahead with the children in the first carriage while I go back to look for it, and then I can come home with you.”

I waited until he finished his explanation before introducing him to the baron, who immediately said, “Allow me to help you search.”

The church was now nearly empty, so we could talk somewhat more freely as we searched the pews, but we kept our voices low. “I get the impression from Miss Newton that we might be kindred spirits, Lord Henry,” the baron said.

“You’re hoping to make a change in the way the colonies are governed?” Henry asked.

“I’m looking to shed the mantle of colony and become a nation,” the baron replied.

“Then I wish we had time to talk. I suppose you could say I’m active in a movement, and Miss Newton is associated with the Rebel Mechanics. We have multiple groups who could work together to accomplish something, but what we’re missing is leadership, someone who could actually help create a nation.”

“There are more of us than you’d expect. I can give you names throughout the American colonies. May I have a note sent by courier?”

“It will have to be soon. We leave tomorrow.”

“I will send it this afternoon, and I will notify my friends that they may hear from you.”

Henry enthusiastically shook his hand. “I am very glad to make your acquaintance, sir.”

“You can thank your governess for looking so pretty at the ball. I couldn’t allow such a lovely young lady to be left so utterly alone.”

“Miss Newton has a knack for meeting people and adding them to her legions,” Henry said. “She’ll end up in charge of this nation, you can bet. She’s already got all the forces in place.”

“I merely move in a variety of circles,” I demurred, even as I felt a flush rise up my neck to my cheeks.

The baron’s manner abruptly changed. “I should warn you not to expect an enthusiastic response, even from those sympathetic to the cause,” he said, his eyes grim and his mouth tight. “They are reluctant to commit themselves to action or to take risks. They may be unhappy with the present situation, but don’t expect it to change. They’re willing to wait and see what happens while grumbling to themselves.”

“Perhaps they’ll be inspired by the younger generation and what we’ve accomplished,” Henry suggested.

“We may have to wait until your generation is in power before anything happens.”

“I don’t think that’s likely. Things are brewing even now,” Henry said. “The displays here recently are merely a sign of more serious events that are afoot.”

“I pray that may be the case,” the baron replied, but his expression showed no sign of optimism.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence, and then Henry sighed. “We’ve lingered about as long as would be believed for a search for a handkerchief.” With a wry grin, he pulled an embroidered handkerchief out of his pocket. “Oh, there it is! Imagine that!”

The baron and I laughed, and the gloomy mood was broken. We said farewell to the baron, who walked away rather than taking a carriage. Henry and I boarded the waiting carriage, and he sat beside me. “You’ve done it again, Verity,” he said, taking my hand. “I don’t know where we’d be without you. This may be just what we need.”

I could barely focus on his words, I was so distracted by his hand gripping mine. He seemed to have forgotten that he was still holding onto me and appeared unaffected by the contact. I wondered if I should ease my hand out of his to avoid any potential awkwardness, but he was holding too tightly for me to do that without being obvious and looking like I was trying to escape him, which I certainly wasn’t. I rationalized that it was easier and less uncomfortable for me to keep my hand in his, and he was the one likely to bear the brunt of any embarrassment once he realized what he was doing.

While I fretted about our proximity, he went on excitedly about his plans to get his friends throughout the colonies to contact the baron’s list of potential allies. “Are you sure you can trust them all?” I asked.

“The baron’s list or my friends?”

“Both. One false ally on that list or among the people you contact, and the movement could be jeopardized.”

“I don’t intend to tell everyone about everyone. I’ll assign one person to contact one person.”

“And all of them will know about you.”

He squeezed my hand, which told me he hadn’t forgotten he was holding it, after all. “Dear Verity, haven’t you noticed that I lead a charmed life? Besides, all my friends already know about my revolutionary proclivities. If I haven’t been arrested by now, I should be safe. All I’m doing now is writing letters and talking to people. It’s far less hazardous than armed robbery.”

The sick knot in the pit of my stomach disagreed with his assessment of risk.

*

As we prepared to depart Boston, I was too busy with the children to know whether the baron had fulfilled his promise to deliver the list of names to Henry, and I wasn’t able to spend enough time with Henry to ask. It was only as we loaded the carriages to depart for the airfield that he caught my eye and patted his breast pocket.

This journey, to Charleston in the Carolinas, was an overnight voyage. That meant I had to spend all day in the passenger lounge with the others, a night in a cabin shared with Olive, and then another half day with everyone else. I wondered if I could suggest an afternoon nap. We were making an early start, after all.

While we made our ascent, we were all too occupied with looking out the windows to worry about making conversation. Once we’d reached the cruising altitude, though, we had to interact with each other. I assigned work to Rollo and Olive, who took their books and papers to the dining table. Flora paged through a fashion magazine, and Henry sketched. That left me with the governor, who brought out no amusements. I would have loved to read, but I felt it would be rude to leave him alone.

Much to my surprise, the governor cleared his throat and addressed me. “I did mention that I’d met your parents, didn’t I, Miss Newton?”

“Yes, Your Grace, you did. And Lady Elinor told me a little more about that event.”

“Your mother was very kind to Elinor, who was quite a bother. I remember your mother fondly. I was sad to hear of her passing. It was recent, you said?”

“Yes, just before I came to work for Lord Henry.”

“Your father let you leave home so soon after your bereavement?”

That was a difficult question to answer politely. My father hadn’t
let
me leave. He’d ejected me from his house upon my mother’s death, saying I was no daughter of his. But I didn’t want to tarnish the governor’s fond memory and good opinion of my mother with a hint of scandal, so I said, “My father insisted upon it. I had nursed my mother through her illness, and he believed a change of scenery would be good for me.”

“You were well-educated, it seems. Your father instructed you?”

“Yes, Your Grace. He taught me the way he taught his university students, even though I was much younger.”

“You seem to be doing an excellent job with my grandchildren.” Much to my relief, he picked up a newspaper and buried his face in it.

I looked up and caught Henry’s eye. He raised an eyebrow, as if to ask, “What was all that about?” To which I replied with a faint shrug, indicating, “I have no idea.” Perhaps the governor was merely being polite, since we were set to spend many hours in very close quarters. I checked on Rollo and Olive’s progress, corrected one of Rollo’s Latin conjugations, then resumed my seat and picked up a book.

We passed the next couple of hours in companionable silence until the steward brought midmorning refreshments. “We must have the last tea in Boston,” Henry quipped as the steward poured from the pot. The governor’s glower suggested he wasn’t at all amused. I was surprised Henry had brought it up, but then I supposed that it would be odd for him not to discuss such a notorious event. It was in keeping with his public persona to treat it as an amusing joke that he’d likely forget about the next time he encountered an interesting specimen of insect.

All of us went back to our respective solitary pursuits. Flora finished her magazine and became restless. She got up and paced the lounge, pausing to look over Henry’s shoulder at his sketchpad. “Henry, why are you drawing Miss Newton?” she exclaimed.

Everyone looked up from what he or she was doing and stared first at Henry, then at me. “Look at the way she’s sitting,” Henry said, gesturing toward me. “She’s set just so against the window, and the angle of the light is perfect. I had to sketch her. Apologies, Miss Newton, if that makes you uncomfortable.”

Flora leaned over the sketch, frowning. “It is a very nice rendition, though you might have been a bit too—” She broke off abruptly, glancing guiltily at me, and quickly retreated to her seat, picking up her magazine again. I wondered what she’d been about to say.

Henry flipped the page, turned, and began drawing again—something other than me, I hoped. Though I would have liked to see how he’d depicted me.

That was the only uncomfortable incident for the rest of the day. We passed over New York as we ate lunch, then had a long afternoon before dinner was served. I was included with the family in these meals, and we didn’t have to change into evening attire. I found at dinner that the governor had quite an interest in the classics, and we discussed Homer, much to the dismay and boredom of the children.

Even so, bedtime came as a great relief because I’d be able to relax. “I want to sleep on the top bunk,” Olive declared as we headed to our cabin, where the steward had made up our beds. One look at the upper berth, however, and she changed her mind. “You can have the top bunk, Miss Newton,” she said. “Or you can join me in the lower bunk if you’re too scared to climb up there.”

I helped her out of her clothes and into her nightgown, and she crawled into the bunk and curled up in the corner while I undressed. When I was in my nightgown and had brushed and braided my hair, Olive said, “Before you climb up, can I have a story?”

I’d packed a few of her favorite books, and she snuggled against me as I read to her. She was asleep before I finished the story, and I hated to disturb her to move to the other bunk. Chancing one bit of magic, I used my power to turn out the light.

I found it hard to sleep, however. I had too much to think about: the rebel magister and Mechanic groups, the possibility of finding an elder statesman to lead the movement, the governor’s interest in me, and whatever was happening between Henry and me, if it wasn’t purely in my dreams.

I didn’t remember falling asleep, but Olive woke me early in the morning when she crawled over me to get to a window and look out. “Do you think we’re almost there?” she asked when she saw that I was awake.

“I think we still have several more hours to go.”

“Charleston must be very far away. Will it be different from New York?”

“I imagine it will be, but I’ve never been there.”

It did turn out to be different from New York. The buildings were lower and more colorful, and the streets were lined with palmetto trees I only recognized because I’d seen illustrations in botany books. The carriages that met us at the airfield took us to a mansion on the Battery, facing the ocean. Although it was early November, it was still quite warm and very humid. I could only imagine what it must be like in the summer.

The room I was given was at the rear of the house, overlooking a kitchen garden and outbuildings, though I was pleased to learn that the room to be used for lessons had a view of the sea. When Henry came to inspect the schoolroom and discuss my lesson plans for the week, it was the first chance we’d had to talk privately since that carriage ride in Boston.