Rebel Magisters (24 page)

When I was done, I wished that the Lyndon home had fireplaces in the bedrooms because that would have made it easier to destroy my notes and drafts. Then again, why should I worry about the notes and drafts when I had the letter itself, which was far worse? I hoped that once Henry came home, he would think of a better place to hide it. He’d told me to hold on to it, but I wondered if it might be wiser to send it to the Mechanics who were outside the city. I wasn’t sure what place would be safe once this news hit print. I just knew I preferred it not to be in my bedroom.

My next task was to find a way to hand the article over to my contacts. This time, I needed to observe all precautions and give no one any reason to believe that I was meeting with anyone connected with any radical group. That would be difficult while I had sole charge of the children until Henry returned home.

Much to Rollo’s dismay, I insisted on him going to school the next day, even though we were home sooner than we’d planned. “You can tell all your friends about riding in an airship,” I reminded him at breakfast.

“And I got a tour,” he said, perking up somewhat. Olive joined us for the walk to school, and she was the one to suggest walking home on the street with all the shops. I’d hoped to find Nat there selling newspapers, and I’d even practiced what to say to indicate I needed to arrange a meeting, but he was nowhere in sight.

The art and music teachers hadn’t been scheduled since we’d returned early, so I didn’t have that excuse to get away in the afternoon. It was so maddening that I was sharper than normal with the children. Even Flora noticed. “You must still be tired from the journey, Miss Newton,” she said from the piano as I supervised Rollo’s homework that afternoon. “You’re not usually this short-tempered. Or are you worried about Henry?”

“I’m worried he’ll leave me alone with you three for much longer,” I retorted. “I hadn’t realized how much easier his presence makes my job.”

“I’m being good,” Olive said.

“And I thank you for it,” I replied, patting her on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Rollo, if I sounded snappish. I will try to be more patient.”

It was raining, so I couldn’t even take an afternoon stroll in the park and hope to run into someone. What I really needed was an excuse to head downtown to meet with any of my usual contacts.

Henry himself provided it. The next day at lunch, Mrs. Talbot came into the dining room to announce that she’d received a message from Henry, who had departed that morning on a passenger airship. “He should be home by tomorrow morning,” she said.

“We should get some flowers for his room!” Olive declared.

I couldn’t hold back a grin. “Yes, Olive, that’s an excellent idea. We should go this afternoon to buy some. I know just the place.”

I considered bringing the article with me, for I trusted the girl at the flower shop, but I wanted to be able to talk about it, and I couldn’t do that with Olive present. Instead, I wrote a short note requesting an in-person meeting.

My friend greeted us at the shop. “Hello, miss, what can we do for you today?” she asked, darting her eyes from Olive to me, then raising a quizzical eyebrow. I’d never brought one of the children here with me before.

“We need flowers for my uncle,” Olive informed her. “He’s been sick, but he’s coming home, and I want to make him happy.”

“That is very kind of you,” the shopgirl said. “Do you know what his favorite color is?”

Olive gasped. “I don’t know! Do you, Miss Newton?”

“I’m afraid it hasn’t come up in conversation,” I said.

“Do you know some things he likes?” the girl asked.

“He likes bugs,” Olive said.

“Bugs?”

“He studies insects,” I explained.

“Then what about something in the colors of a monarch butterfly?” the girl suggested. She moved around the shop, pulling stems in shades of yellow, orange, and gold from buckets of flowers. She arranged them all in a bouquet. “Like this?” she asked Olive.

Olive clapped her hands. “Yes! It’s perfect. May I carry it home, Miss Newton?”

“Yes, but you must be very careful.”

Olive was so busy staring at the bouquet she held that I was certain she didn’t notice me passing a note to the shopgirl along with payment. “Mrs. Talbot will help us find a vase for the flowers, won’t she?” Olive said as the shopgirl read the note and nodded to me.

That errand accomplished, I wasn’t sure which I anticipated more, Henry’s return or the response from my rebel contacts. I was a little worried about the timing, since the publication of the article coinciding with Henry’s return from the place where the letter had been stolen might look suspicious.

That anxiety was eclipsed when Mr. Chastain brought me a note while Olive, Mrs. Talbot, and I were putting the flowers in a vase. “This was just delivered for you, Miss Newton,” he said.

Frowning, I opened it. Ostensibly, it was from my sister, but my sister had made no effort to contact me since I’d left home, and I didn’t think any member of my family even knew where I was. The handwriting was wrong, and it was signed, “Your loving sister,” with no name.

“What is it, Miss Newton?” Mrs. Talbot asked, sounding concerned. I supposed that my confusion might have resembled distress.

“My sister is in town, and she’s invited me to join her for tea at the Astoria this afternoon.”

“That’s very short notice.”

“It must have been an unexpected trip.”

“You must go, then. I’ll get Rollo from school.”

“But you have so much to do, preparing for Lord Henry’s return.”

“Now really, do you think Lord Henry expects much of anything? You know he’d tell you to visit your sister. Go!”

Since I didn’t believe for a moment that it really was my sister, and I was fairly certain this sudden invitation was a response to my request for a clandestine meeting, I was sure of what Henry would say. I changed into a nicer dress, put on my best hat, and hid my article in the lining of my reticule.

When I came downstairs, Mr. Chastain had secured a cab for me, and I felt like a grand lady as I journeyed to the hotel. Once there, I glanced around, feeling somewhat lost. I would recognize my own sister, of course, but I knew I wasn’t likely meeting her, and I didn’t know who would be playing that role.

A tall, elegant woman in a rather spectacular feather-festooned hat rose from a table tucked away in a corner behind some potted palms. “Verity, darling, there you are!” she said, crossing the room to take my hands. “You’re such a dear to meet me. I must apologize for the short notice, but I didn’t know until we arrived that I would have time to see you.”

It took all my self-control not to gape, for my “sister” was Lizzie, but as I’d never seen her before. I might not even have recognized her. Not only was she dressed in the height of fashion, but the hair that showed beneath her hat was a brown that matched mine rather than her usual fiery red, and her freckles had been so skillfully covered with cosmetics that I only knew artifice was involved because I knew what she normally looked like. I supposed the theatrical society the rebels hid behind had its uses. She’d managed to disguise her usual slight Irish lilt so that she spoke very much like I did.

“Of course I’d make time for you,” I said as soon as I recovered my wits.

She led me to our table, and as I sat, I whispered, “This is all rather elaborate, isn’t it?”

“Your message sounded urgent. Our florist telegraphed as soon as you were gone.”

“It is urgent. It’s the most urgent thing I’ve done yet.”

“Now I am intrigued.” As a waiter approached with a teapot, she raised her voice slightly and said, “I hope you don’t mind if I already ordered. You like Assam, as I recall.”

“Yes, that’s lovely, thank you.”

When the waiter had gone, she grinned and added, “You certainly dumped enough of it in the harbor.”

“I’m surprised that you’re drinking tea now. I thought that was off-limits.”

“How better to disguise our clandestine activity? You needed a meeting that wouldn’t be at all suspicious.”

“This is perfect,” I admitted.

Our conversation was interrupted once more as we were brought tiered stands of sandwiches, scones, and cakes. “Oh my, I’ll never be hungry for dinner,” I said.

“I suppose you dine early in the nursery with the children, as a governess,” she said, adopting the tone of a slightly condescending older sister.

“Yes, I’m afraid I do, especially while their uncle is out of town.”

When the waiter was out of earshot, she whispered, “I wonder if they’d notice if I stashed whatever we don’t eat in my purse. I could feed the girls in the boardinghouse on this for days.”

The room was fairly noisy, and our table was isolated, so I thought it might be safe to speak when the waiters were well away. I leaned forward, on the pretense of taking a sandwich, and said, “We have evidence of corruption at the highest levels in the government. The governor had to ask friends for loans to keep the colonies functioning until he can find the lost funds.”

I thought she would choke on the bite of cucumber sandwich she’d just taken. “Really?”

“We have the letter from the governor himself. Henry stole it from a courier.”

“Are you sure it’s genuine, that it isn’t a trap? If we publish it, will he know he has a mole and who it’s likely to be?”

I froze, considering the terrible consequences if that were to be the case, then shook my head. “No. He had no way of knowing what I overheard or that I would even have been in a place to overhear, and I don’t think he yet knows that the letter was taken. The courier got his bag back without knowing anything was missing.”

She nodded, thinking. “Well, then, perhaps it is real.”

“Henry believes this is what we need to make those who are reluctant ready for action. There are some in very high ranks who sympathize but who are unwilling to become involved. If they know this, then…”

“Then they will feel compelled to act.”

“I’ve written the article. I have the letter as proof if anyone needs to see it, but it remains with me.”

“I understand.” In a more conversational tone, she added, “Your new position sounds quite fascinating, though I never imagined you as a career girl. And working for the governor’s family! You must tell me what he’s like.”

“He’s been very kind to me, and he loves the children very much, but I don’t see him that often.”

We spent the rest of the time in sisterly chat. It felt surreal to me, as I’d never had such a conversation with my own sister. We’d never been close even before she’d sided with her father and denied my place in the family.

I barely suppressed laughter when Lizzie managed to tip the least messy sandwiches and a scone or two into her bag. “Oh, I have something for your children,” I said once the waiter had taken away the empty plates and cups. I handed her the envelope from my bag.

“How very sweet of you. I’m sure they’ll love hearing from their auntie.” She hooked her arm through mine as we left the tea room and went to the hotel lobby. There she kissed me on the cheek. “It was so good to see you again, sister dearest. We really should stay in touch more often.”

“You must let me know the next time you plan to be in the city,” I said, playing along.

I allowed myself a deep sigh of relief once I was in a cab on the way home. I hadn’t realized just how tense I’d been ever since Henry’s escapade to steal the letter. Now I knew the truth would come out.

*

It was probably just my imagination, but as Olive and I escorted Rollo to school the next morning, I fancied that I sensed an extra energy in the air, a buzz like an electrical current between people when they met. Were they talking about the scandalous news about the government? I hadn’t yet seen the newspaper, so I wasn’t entirely certain the news was out. It had been somewhat past the deadline to make it into the next morning’s edition, but I thought for something this important, they’d have delayed printing.

When the boys left their chaperones at Rollo’s school, they rushed to each other as though sharing exciting news, and I had to remind myself that this wasn’t the sort of news that would excite young boys. They’d thrill about a new machine, not financial mismanagement.

I finally saw a copy of the newspaper when we ran across a newsboy with an armload of papers. Instead of standing on a single corner, he kept on the move, letting the top of the front page peek out from under his coat. People dropped coins in his pocket and grabbed copies as they passed. The stream of customers was so steady that I couldn’t get close enough to buy a copy. I settled for attempting to read other people’s papers as they passed.

It was fairly obvious from the giant headline that the news was, indeed, out. “S
CANDAL
IN
C
OLONIAL
G
OVERNMENT
” the headline blared in letters a couple of inches high. In only slightly smaller letters, the paper asked, “W
HERE
I
S
THE
M
ONEY
?” I knew what the article said because I’d written it, so I didn’t try too hard to read it once I knew it was there.

“Miss Newton, slow down! You’re walking too fast,” Olive complained, making me realize that this development had put a real spring in my step. Now surely people would be willing to rise up. It wouldn’t just be a few wanting change.

When we came within sight of the Lyndon home, Olive forgot about wanting to walk more slowly. There was a carriage in front, unloading a passenger. Olive cried out, “Uncle Henry!” and ran forward, dragging me behind her. Though I had to admit, I was probably as excited to see him as she was.

Mr. Chastain was just helping him out of the cab when we reached it. Henry looked much better. His color was almost back to normal, and his eyes had lost that sunken, hollow appearance they’d had right after his injury.

“Uncle! Are you better?” Olive asked, throwing her arms around him.

“Much better, Olive, thank you,” he said, returning her hug with his good arm.

“Wait’ll you see what we got you!”

“I can hardly wait.” He caught my eye and smiled. “I presume the children have been good for you, Miss Newton?”