Manners & Mutiny
Page 38
The girls looked at her and then at the others in the game. They said nothing. Discuss someone’s cards? Never.
Lady Linette sighed. “Wait a moment, please, ladies, while we play through.”
The girls waited.
Lady Linette was an odd sort of person. She was theatrically pretty, with a nice figure, modulated voice, and propensity for lavender scent. Her hair was blonde by artifice, not nature, and curled by iron, not heritage. She favored the pastel-colored gowns of a girl in her first season. Yet her face paint was applied to such excess she looked older than she actually was. Everything about her was a trick of expectation, making the truth impossible to wheedle out. Given that manipulation was one of Lady Linette’s specialties, it was probably all by intelligent design in the end.
The game was some form of whist, except with three players. After another round, Lady Linette bowed out of the match. The other two continued.
Lady Linette piled her cards neatly, facedown. “You’ll have to be punished, of course. Imagine, allowing yourselves to be caught.”
Dimity’s eyes began to well with tears.
Sophronia stood firm. There was no point in defending herself. Lady Linette hadn’t believed her before and she wouldn’t now, not if she thought Madame Spetuna a traitor. Then, horribly, Sophronia wondered if Madame Spetuna was a traitor. Was all this some kind of setup? Was the dinner party at Lord Akeldama’s designed to lead them astray? Her mind whirred with the possibility.
“You’ll be forbidden to attend the upcoming New Year’s celebration.”
“Sent down?” wailed Dimity.
“No, I think not sent down. We will put you in charge of Professor Braithwope for the evening. That way Professor Lefoux can attend the festivities, for a change. We will make certain he is well fed beforehand, of course. You’ll be responsible for his entertainment and safety. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Professor?”
The vampire gave a glassy, disorientated fanged smile at the sound of his name.
Dimity looked scared.
Sophronia was resigned.
Professor Lefoux didn’t flinch at all, although Sophronia was tolerably certain she didn’t give two figs for attending the New Year’s party. Professor Braithwope returned to his hand, giving little indication of following the conversation.
“Report to his private chambers one hour before the event begins. Bring cards and snacks. Oh, and carnations. Of late, Professor Braithwope has developed a love of green carnations.”
Dimity and Sophronia flinched. Where would they find green carnations floating over Dartmoor?
However, they knew better than to question orders when being punished.
“Dismissed!” Lady Linette turned back to the game.
Sophronia and Dimity skittered away feeling foolish and disheartened.
Dimity cast herself dramatically on the couch in the parlor when they returned to their chambers. It was very late and they ought to be in bed, but such a calamity as this must be discussed immediately. “I told you we’d be tea party embargoed. Oh, the tragedy of it all!”
Sophronia said, “That was odd.”
“No, it wasn’t odd at all. It was exactly what I said would happen.” Dimity’s irritation presented itself as aggressively removing hairpins and then winding them together into a metallic nest. Her liberated curls developed wisps, making her look like a mad hermit—a sparkly mad hermit.
“No, not that. What’s odd was when Lady Linette asked us what we were looking for in the record room.”
“I missed that bit.”
“Exactly! Sometimes the most important piece of information is the chunk left out of the conversation.” Sophronia singsonged the sentence in a fine imitation of Professor Lefoux’s perfect elocution.
“Oh.” Dimity put down her hairpin nest, interested despite her annoyance. “You think she knew what we were looking for?”
“Or the school has some kind of new technology that allows them to track what files we examined. Invisible powder? Feel anything on your fingertips?”
“No.”
“Me neither. Then again…” Sophronia trailed off, biting her lip.
“Then again what?”
“It’s possible they knew what we were after and planted false information for us to find.”
“Could this be a lesson? Do they want us to figure that out?”
“Maybe. Or maybe it wasn’t us they were expecting, not really.”
“Lady Linette said she wasn’t surprised.”
“Lady Linette is the mistress of misdirection, remember?”
Dimity flopped back. “Sometimes I hate this place. Wouldn’t you like it if just once everything was exactly as it seemed?”
“No, that’s a horrible idea.”
“You would say that. So what did you learn, misinformation or no?”
“Madame Spetuna’s real name, and that she is missing, presumed lost to evil. That Lady Linette may think her a traitor, which is why she won’t believe me. Or that she really is a traitor. In either case, I wager she is back with the Picklemen. And you? Whose files did you look at?”
Dimity sat up, gossip in the offing. “Yours, mine, Monique’s, and Agatha’s. You know Sidheag’s is gone? Vanished. Wonder where they file those ones—you know, the students who got away.”
“Possibly also with the lost. Anything juicy?”
“Not in mine, except they actually think I’m better than I think I am. Which is nice.”
Lady Linette sighed. “Wait a moment, please, ladies, while we play through.”
The girls waited.
Lady Linette was an odd sort of person. She was theatrically pretty, with a nice figure, modulated voice, and propensity for lavender scent. Her hair was blonde by artifice, not nature, and curled by iron, not heritage. She favored the pastel-colored gowns of a girl in her first season. Yet her face paint was applied to such excess she looked older than she actually was. Everything about her was a trick of expectation, making the truth impossible to wheedle out. Given that manipulation was one of Lady Linette’s specialties, it was probably all by intelligent design in the end.
The game was some form of whist, except with three players. After another round, Lady Linette bowed out of the match. The other two continued.
Lady Linette piled her cards neatly, facedown. “You’ll have to be punished, of course. Imagine, allowing yourselves to be caught.”
Dimity’s eyes began to well with tears.
Sophronia stood firm. There was no point in defending herself. Lady Linette hadn’t believed her before and she wouldn’t now, not if she thought Madame Spetuna a traitor. Then, horribly, Sophronia wondered if Madame Spetuna was a traitor. Was all this some kind of setup? Was the dinner party at Lord Akeldama’s designed to lead them astray? Her mind whirred with the possibility.
“You’ll be forbidden to attend the upcoming New Year’s celebration.”
“Sent down?” wailed Dimity.
“No, I think not sent down. We will put you in charge of Professor Braithwope for the evening. That way Professor Lefoux can attend the festivities, for a change. We will make certain he is well fed beforehand, of course. You’ll be responsible for his entertainment and safety. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Professor?”
The vampire gave a glassy, disorientated fanged smile at the sound of his name.
Dimity looked scared.
Sophronia was resigned.
Professor Lefoux didn’t flinch at all, although Sophronia was tolerably certain she didn’t give two figs for attending the New Year’s party. Professor Braithwope returned to his hand, giving little indication of following the conversation.
“Report to his private chambers one hour before the event begins. Bring cards and snacks. Oh, and carnations. Of late, Professor Braithwope has developed a love of green carnations.”
Dimity and Sophronia flinched. Where would they find green carnations floating over Dartmoor?
However, they knew better than to question orders when being punished.
“Dismissed!” Lady Linette turned back to the game.
Sophronia and Dimity skittered away feeling foolish and disheartened.
Dimity cast herself dramatically on the couch in the parlor when they returned to their chambers. It was very late and they ought to be in bed, but such a calamity as this must be discussed immediately. “I told you we’d be tea party embargoed. Oh, the tragedy of it all!”
Sophronia said, “That was odd.”
“No, it wasn’t odd at all. It was exactly what I said would happen.” Dimity’s irritation presented itself as aggressively removing hairpins and then winding them together into a metallic nest. Her liberated curls developed wisps, making her look like a mad hermit—a sparkly mad hermit.
“No, not that. What’s odd was when Lady Linette asked us what we were looking for in the record room.”
“I missed that bit.”
“Exactly! Sometimes the most important piece of information is the chunk left out of the conversation.” Sophronia singsonged the sentence in a fine imitation of Professor Lefoux’s perfect elocution.
“Oh.” Dimity put down her hairpin nest, interested despite her annoyance. “You think she knew what we were looking for?”
“Or the school has some kind of new technology that allows them to track what files we examined. Invisible powder? Feel anything on your fingertips?”
“No.”
“Me neither. Then again…” Sophronia trailed off, biting her lip.
“Then again what?”
“It’s possible they knew what we were after and planted false information for us to find.”
“Could this be a lesson? Do they want us to figure that out?”
“Maybe. Or maybe it wasn’t us they were expecting, not really.”
“Lady Linette said she wasn’t surprised.”
“Lady Linette is the mistress of misdirection, remember?”
Dimity flopped back. “Sometimes I hate this place. Wouldn’t you like it if just once everything was exactly as it seemed?”
“No, that’s a horrible idea.”
“You would say that. So what did you learn, misinformation or no?”
“Madame Spetuna’s real name, and that she is missing, presumed lost to evil. That Lady Linette may think her a traitor, which is why she won’t believe me. Or that she really is a traitor. In either case, I wager she is back with the Picklemen. And you? Whose files did you look at?”
Dimity sat up, gossip in the offing. “Yours, mine, Monique’s, and Agatha’s. You know Sidheag’s is gone? Vanished. Wonder where they file those ones—you know, the students who got away.”
“Possibly also with the lost. Anything juicy?”
“Not in mine, except they actually think I’m better than I think I am. Which is nice.”
