A Great and Terrible Beauty (Gemma Doyle #1)(29)

“I am Ithal,” he says in a thick Romanian accent.

“Don’t tell her anything,” Felicity snaps, still trembling.

Mrs. Nightwing’s strident voice cuts through the forest, moving toward us. “Girls! Girls!”

Sheer panic passes over Felicity’s gray eyes. “Dear God, she can’t find us.”

A dozen voices call out our names. They’re getting closer.

Ithal moves to hold Felicity. “Bater. Let them find us. I am not liking this hiding.”

She pushes him away, her voice harsh. “Stop it! Are you mad? I can’t be found with you. You’ve got to go back.”

“Come with me.” He takes her hand and tries to lead her away but she resists.

“Don’t you understand? I can’t go with you.” Felicity turns to me. “You have to help me.”

“Is this a request from the girl who locked me in the chapel last night?” I say, folding my arms across my chest.

Ithal tries to slip an arm around her waist, but she pulls free.

“I didn’t mean anything by last night. It was just a laugh, that’s all.” When she sees that I’m not amused, she tries a different tack. “Please, Gemma. I’ll give you whatever you want. My pen set. My gloves. My sapphire ring!”

She moves to take it off her finger but I stay her hand. As delicious as it would be to watch Felicity squirm under Mrs. Nightwing’s interrogation, it’s better to know that she’ll owe her escape to my charity. That should be punishment enough for her.

“You’ll be in my debt,” I say.

“Understood.”

I shove her toward the lake.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving you,” I say, and push her in. While she sputters and shrieks in the cold lake water, I point Ithal in the other direction, toward the woods. “Go now if you ever want to see her again!”

“I will not run like a coward.” He plants his feet stubbornly, adopting what he must think is an heroic pose. He’s just begging for a pigeon to fly by and relieve itself.

“Do you really think you’d ever see any of her inheritance? She’d be cut off without a cent. If you weren’t slapped in leg irons and hanged in Newgate first,” I say, invoking the name of London’s most notorious prison. His face blanches but he’s still standing his ground. Male pride. If I can’t get him out of here, we’re done for.

Kartik appears from behind a tree, startling me. Except for his black cloak, he’s dressed just like a Gypsy—kerchief about his neck, colorful vest, pants stuffed into high boots. In halting Romanian, he speaks to Ithal. I don’t know what he’s said but the Gypsy leaves quietly with him. On the path, Kartik glances back and our eyes meet. For some reason, I find myself nodding in a silent thank-you. He acknowledges my nod with a curt one of his own and the two of them move quickly toward the safety of the Gypsy camp.

“Here, take my hand.” I pull the furious Felicity from the lake. She’s missed it all in her struggle.

“What did you do that for!” She’s soaked, her cheeks blossoming with rage.

Mrs. Nightwing has found us. “What’s going on here? What was all that screaming about?”

“Oh, Mrs. Nightwing! Felicity and I decided to take the boat out on the lake and she fell in quite by accident. It was terribly foolish of us and we’re dreadfully sorry to have frightened everyone.” I’m speaking faster than I ever have in my life. Felicity is actually stunned into silence except for a well-timed sneeze, which immediately causes Mrs. Nightwing to fuss and fret in her own irritable way.

“Miss Doyle, put your cape around Miss Worthington before she catches her death. We shall all go back to the school. This is not a suitable place for young ladies. There are sometimes Gypsies in these woods. I shudder to think what might have happened.”

Felicity and I cannot stop staring at our feet. To my surprise, she nudges me in the ribs with her elbow. “Yes,” she says, without cracking a smile. “That’s a sobering thought indeed, Mrs. Nightwing. I’m sure we’re both grateful for your good advice.”

“Yes, well, see that you’re careful in the future,” Mrs. Nightwing harrumphs, preening a bit under Felicity’s skillful manipulation. “All right, girls, back to the school. There’s still daylight and work to be done.”

Mrs. Nightwing rallies the girls and starts them back on the path. I throw my cape over Felicity’s shoulders.

“That was a bit melodramatic, wasn’t it? ‘We’re both grateful for your good advice’?” I don’t want her to think she can put anything over on me.

“It worked, didn’t it? If you tell them what they want to hear, they don’t bother to try to see,” she says.

Pippa comes running over to us, breathless. “Good heavens, what really happened? You must tell me before I die of curiosity!”

Ann is a sudden shadow at my side. She says nothing, just follows along with sure, plodding steps.

“It’s just as Gemma said,” Felicity lies. “I fell in the water and she pulled me out.”

Pippa’s face falls. “That’s it?”

“Yes, that is all.”

“There’s nothing more?”

“Isn’t it enough that I nearly drowned today?” Felicity huffs. She’s so good I could swear she almost believes it herself. Now I know that she’s never confessed about her Gypsy beau to Pippa, her closest friend. Felicity and I have a secret, one she’s not sharing with anyone else. Pippa senses that we’re not telling the whole truth. Her eyes take on that suspicious, wounded look girls get when they know they’ve fallen off the top rung of friendship and someone else has passed them, but they don’t know when or how the change took place.