Rebel Magisters (23 page)

Rollo got up and ran off. He returned a few minutes later, frowning. “He’s not feeling well. He’s all pale and sweaty.”

I was rather surprised that the governor actually looked concerned. Henry was convinced that the governor didn’t approve of him, especially not as guardian of the children, but it looked to me like the governor didn’t wish him ill. “I should send for a doctor.”

“He says he just has the flu and said he wants some tea and to be left alone,” Rollo said.

“I will go read him a story,” Olive declared.

“You’ll leave him alone, as he asked.” The governor turned to the footman who was in charge of the breakfast room. “Have some tea sent up to Lord Henry. And get someone to check in on him every so often to see if he needs anything.”

I tried to convey the right degree of concern, something appropriate for an employer who had the flu rather than for a good friend who’d been grievously wounded. I had to settle for a mild, “Oh dear, I hope he feels better soon,” even though I wanted nothing more than to stay by his side and soothe his fevered brow.

With Henry out of commission, I had sole charge of the children, which made it difficult to check on Henry or learn what the governor was doing. Up in the schoolroom, I couldn’t hear any explosive outbursts that would indicate that the governor had learned the letter had been stolen. The morning seemed very normal, and I had to play chaperone that afternoon, as Flora received callers welcoming the governor’s family to Charleston.

Just before dinner was served in the schoolroom, Olive insisted on checking on her uncle and presenting him with a drawing she’d made for him, and I didn’t protest at all. Although we wouldn’t be able to speak freely, I could at least check on his condition.

We found him drowsing, propped up on pillows. He was pale and had dark hollows under his eyes, but I thought he looked somewhat better than he had the night before. I let Olive be the one to approach the bed while I hung back by the door. “I made you this picture to make you feel better,” she announced, handing him the drawing.

He took it from her with his good hand. “Why, thank you, Olive, this does make me feel much better. I’ll put it on my nightstand so I can see it.” His voice sounded rough and shaky, but I couldn’t tell if that was genuine or if he was feigning illness to disguise his true condition.

“You look terrible,” Olive declared. “Miss Newton, do you think he needs to see a doctor?”

It was a good excuse for me to check on him. I stepped forward and placed a hand on his forehead. I barely stifled a sigh of relief when I found it neither too warm nor too cold. “He doesn’t appear to be feverish, so likely all he needs is some rest,” I declared. “And we should leave him to it.”

“Thank you for your visit, Olive,” he said. “And Miss Newton? I know you have quite the collection of light reading material. Would you mind lending me a novel?”

“I would be happy to. I’ll bring you a selection after dinner.”

I ushered Olive out with a glance over my shoulder at him. He flashed me a slight smile before closing his eyes.

Reassured by the visit to her uncle, Olive was in better spirits during dinner, back to arguing with her brother. It took me a little longer than I would have liked to get both of them into their rooms for the night, but finally I was free to get a selection of pulp novels to take to Henry.

I left the door open as I visited him, for propriety’s sake, so we had to keep our voices low as we spoke, interspersing more normal conversation in case anyone passed by. I started by presenting the books to him. “I’ve finished all of these, and you should like them. They’re entertaining, but not very demanding of the intellect.”

While he made a show of examining the books, I whispered, “I can’t tell that the governor knows about the letter yet. If he does, he’s taken the news rather well.”

“I doubt he does know.”

“How do you mean?”

“Didn’t I tell you last night? Oh, I probably didn’t. It’s all rather a haze, I’m afraid. I didn’t rob the courier who came to the house. I robbed the man he handed it over to, who added it to a satchel with a larger number of items. I took the satchel and managed to get the piece I wanted before he took the satchel back from me.” He gave a rueful wince. “That’s how I got shot—I was letting him get the satchel back. I’d have been free and clear if I’d just taken the whole thing. But with any luck, it could be days or even weeks before anyone realizes that one letter went missing. The governor will first assume that his friend is ignoring his request. It’s such an awkward thing that he may hesitate to follow up, for fear that his friend is letting him down gently by merely not responding.”

I thought I heard footsteps coming down the hall, so I said out loud, “That one was my favorite, but I’m not sure it would be quite to your taste. You might enjoy this one more. It’s more diverting.”

“Right now, anything other than this wallpaper would be more diverting,” Henry replied hoarsely with a weak laugh. It might have been my imagination, but I thought the footsteps paused briefly outside the door before moving on.

When I could no longer hear any sound outside, I whispered, “That was insane!”

“And rather brilliant, you must admit.”

“You could have been killed, and then where would we be?”

“His aim was a bit better than I expected. I was hoping he’d merely wing me. And you don’t have to worry about anyone thinking to search for the letter that no one knows is even missing. I just wish we could get back to New York right away and get this news out.”

“You’d better hope you have at least another day to recover before you’re forced to spend an entire day with the governor.”

“If I’m still ill, I can stay in my cabin for the voyage.”

I stood. “I hope you enjoy those books. I don’t have any others with me, so you’ll have to make them last the rest of the trip. Get well soon.”

“Thank you for your kindness, Miss Newton.”

I forced myself not to look back over my shoulder at him as I left his room and closed the door behind me. Once I was alone in my room, I sank onto my bed and buried my face in my hands, allowing myself to shed a few tears. He’d taken such a horrible risk, and I was amazed that he’d actually planned it, putting himself on the line to help keep our efforts as secret as possible. He seemed to be doing well now, but I had the strongest suspicion that if a revolution did, in fact, occur, Henry Lyndon was unlikely to survive it.

*

Any ease I’d gained from knowing that Henry had acted so as to keep the governor unaware of our plot was lost the next morning at breakfast when the governor announced that we were cutting our trip short and would be returning to New York that afternoon. “I have had some unexpected business come up that I must attend to,” he said. Had he learned about the letter, or was he merely dealing with the situation behind the letter?

I was too busy helping the children pack and getting their trunks loaded on the baggage carriage to spend too much time fretting. My next worry was about Henry—could he successfully hide an injury while feigning illness, all while so close to the governor?

That turned out not to be a concern at all. The governor offered to let Henry stay until he recovered from his “illness” and then travel home on his own when he felt well enough. Much to my surprise, the governor had already sent for Henry’s valet to look after him, which made me feel much better. Matthews was used to having to deal with Henry’s scrapes, and he would arrive not long after we departed.

I made one last visit to Henry under the guise of making arrangements for the children’s activities for the next few days. “You know what to do,” he whispered.

“Yes, as soon as I get the chance. It will be much easier once I’m home.”

“You can write the story based on the letter and show the letter as proof to your contacts, but don’t hand it over to anyone. I imagine I’ll get inquiries in the aftermath, and I want to be able to show it. This is a story you‘ll want to hand over as directly as possible. No leaving it in a drop.”

“I know. I also won’t write it under my regular pseudonym.”

He leaned his head back against his pillow and closed his eyes. “I know. You’re well-versed in this activity, perhaps even more than I am. But this is so critical. This could be the spark that begins a revolution. We can’t do anything to jeopardize the opportunity. I just wish I could be there.”

“It’s probably better that you aren’t. That’s less suspicion on you.”

“And perhaps more on you.”

“Nonsense. I’m practically invisible. No one suspects me of anything.”

*

In spite of what I told Henry about being above suspicion, I felt acutely conscious of my deception while in the governor’s presence on the airship. I kept telling myself that he barely noticed me, so there was little chance of him being able to tell merely from looking at me that I had his letter detailing the scandal tucked between the pages of my Bible.

The problem was, he did notice me. I felt him watching me throughout the day as I reviewed lessons with Rollo and read with Olive. “You are quite a good teacher, Miss Newton,” he said when we took a break for afternoon tea. “I must say that I initially doubted Lyndon’s choice when he hired you. You seemed far too young and inexperienced when he could have employed so many fully qualified, experienced tutors, but you do seem to have a knack for it.”

There was a genuine compliment buried in there somewhere, so I meekly said, “Thank you, Your Grace. They are capable and eager students.”

“I imagine you were a good student, yourself.”

“I suppose I was. I liked to read. I still do.”

“Any thought of following your father into academia?”

“I’m not sure that’s the life for me.” I had been considering applying to a women’s college before my mother became ill, but since that avenue was no longer an option for me and since I had other interests now, it was probably best not to get into those details.

“I’m surprised your father let you get away without at least a try at it.”

I was sure he was trying to be complimentary, but now he was pushing right where I was trying to evade. “He believes that this experience is good for me,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.

“You have siblings, don’t you? I seem to recall your parents saying something about children.”

“Yes, Your Grace. But they are all much older than I am. They left home while I was still a small child.”

God bless Olive, she kept the governor from pressing further by saying, “You’re the baby, too, Miss Newton? Were your brothers as mean to you as Rollo is?”

“Hey! I’m not mean!” Rollo protested.

“Sometimes you are,” Olive said, quite somberly. “You make fun of me and you hide my dolls.”

“I hid your dolls once! And I gave them right back.”

Their grandfather, who probably hadn’t experienced sibling bickering in decades—if ever—abruptly hid himself behind a magazine once more, ending the uncomfortable conversation. As relieved as I was, I also felt rather guilty that I would be airing his dirty linen when he was trying so hard to be kind to me. It was hard to imagine a man in such a lofty position taking such interest in a mere governess. I had to remind myself that he represented a regime I despised, and he had the power to make life better for so many people, but did not do so.

*

We began making our gentle descent into New York the next morning while we were finishing breakfast. The children ran to the windows, and I forced myself to follow in a more dignified manner, although I was almost as eager as they were to see the view.

My previous flight over Manhattan had been in the Mechanics’ much smaller vessel and at a much lower altitude. Even though we were coming in for a landing, when we crossed the island we were still higher than the
Liberty
had traveled. I couldn’t see details on the ground, but I could see the pattern of the streets and the occasional larger landmark. “Can we see our house?” Olive asked.

“We’re in the wrong part of the city,” Rollo replied.

Very soon, we’d reached the airstrip and settled down to the mooring mast. The governor bid us farewell and sent the children and me directly home, saying he had business to attend to right away. The baggage would be delivered later.

I was surprised by just how much like home the Lyndon mansion looked when we pulled up in front of it. Not too long ago, it had seemed as remote and imposing as a European castle to me. I never would have imagined then that I would look at it with the warm affection of home. Mrs. Talbot, the housekeeper, met us in the foyer. “Welcome home! Luncheon will be served in an hour.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I hope our early return wasn’t too great an inconvenience.”

“Nonsense. We’re glad to see you back. The governor sent us a message, so we had time to prepare. I do hope Lord Henry isn’t too terribly ill. Matthews went off in such a rush.”

“He’s already on the mend. The concern was that the rigor of travel might hamper his recovery. It’s best for him to get his strength back before making that journey.”

“That is so good to hear.”

I sent the children up to their rooms and went to my own room, eager to move my incriminating evidence to a safer hiding place. With Henry’s help, I’d created a false bottom in my desk drawer for hiding articles and documents, and I wasted no time sliding the governor’s letter, still in its disguise as a romantic missive, into that spot. It was in a place that would incriminate me if it were found, but it was far less likely to be found there, even accidentally.

I’d need more time to study the letter before I could write an article, but I didn’t dare do that while the children were awake. It would be disastrous if Olive came looking for me while I was working. As impatient as I was to get this news out, I had to do this properly and take no chances.

In Which

I Make Headlines

Only after the children were in bed and sound asleep
that night did I sneak the letter out of its hiding place to study it. Henry and I had skimmed it the night he stole it, but I hadn’t picked up or retained many details. I took notes on the most important and incriminating facts as I read. When I was sure I had it all straight, I hid the letter again. Working from my notes, I drafted an article, then edited it to make it sound like it came from some other pen than that of Liberty Jones.