Curtsies & Conspiracies (Finishing School, #2)(22)

Then a loud whistle reverberated through the airship, picked up and repeated by every mechanical within range. They hadn’t had to use the obstructor for two hallways, so it couldn’t have been their fault. The alarm was triggered by some other miscreants out after hours.

The two girls squeezed behind a massive marble bust of Pan and a once-underdressed nymph in the corner. The nymph had been clothed in skirts and a lace hat, to make her more the thing. This meant there was plenty of room for concealment. Just in time, too, for doors to teachers’ rooms popped open and heads stuck out.

“Is there no peace for the naked?” Sister Mattie wore a bed cap of sensible white lace.

“I think you mean peace for the wicked,” corrected Lady Linette, wrapped in a flowing silk robe of apple green trimmed in black velvet. Her hair was loose and flowing, her face free of paint. She looked lovely and fresh.

“Why would that apply?” asked Sister Mattie, before closing her door on both the problem and the noise.

“What’s going on?” The headmistress voiced that query, her rinsed red hair crowned by a great pink floof of crochet.

“I shouldn’t worry, Geraldine. It’s probablyour young gentlemen guests.”

“I warned you no good would come of having boys on board!”

“Might have told that to me, mum, whot?” joked Professor Braithwope, shimmering out of his room fully clothed and dapper. His mustache was a fluffy caterpillar of curiosity, perched and ready to inquire, dragging the vampire along behind it on the investigation.

“Oh, Professor,” simpered Mademoiselle Geraldine, “you don’t count. You’re a gentleman, not a boy, and qualit-tay to boot.”

The vampire looked around the hallway, noting no mechanicals or culprits who might have set the alarm. He was the only one dressed, his boots mirror shiny and his trousers cut to perfection. Sophronia wondered how such a nobby little man could manage to fade to the background so often. It was a real skill.

“Where’s the revolution?”

“Student quarters, I suspect. One of the boys. Our girls know better than to risk it at night. Or they know how to avoid setting off alarms.” Sophronia could have sworn Lady Linette glanced in their direction.

The vampire nodded. “I’ll see to it, being as I’m all gussied up and proper for public consumption. Plus, put a bit of fear into those monkeys, wrath of a vampire, whot?”

“A most excellent notion, Professor.”

Sophronia, forgetting her own first encounter with the vampire, suppressed a giggle at the very idea of Professor Braithwope, with his quizzical mustache and undersized frame, putting the fear into anyone—except perhaps the fear of growing the wrong facial hair.

The alarm, painfully loud, continued. There was no maid nearby to receive shutdown protocols. Professor Braithwope hurried off, and the other teachers disappeared into their rooms, presumably to hide from the noise.

Sophronia and Vieve continued on their way, reassured that attention was directed elsewhere.

“What was that about?” Vieve wondered.

“Viscount Mersey might have taken something Pillover said after dinner as encouragement.”

“Sophronia, you didn’t plant ideas in that poor nobleman’s head? You are a naughty girl.”

“Where’s your aunt? I didn’t see her just now.”

“Down in the laboratory with Shrimpdittle, I think. They’re working on something together, despite bad blood over the prototype.”

“Is that the real reason the boys are on board, as cover for this project?”

“Possibly.”

“Vieve,” said Sophronia slowly, “how would vampires handle floating through the aetherosphere?”

“I’ve no idea. Ah, here we are.”


When entering the engineering chamber from the proper door, rather than the outside hatch, they came in from above onto a wide landing with the whole of the massive room spread out before them. Sophronia loved the view. It was so impressive, with multiple boilers flaming and smoking, engines and machines moving and sparking, sooties running between massive mounds of coal. Usually, two-thirds of the sooties slept during evening shift, but tonight everyone was awake. A full complement of supervisors stood guard—firemen, greasers, engineers, and coal runners. Something is definitely afoot. Or should one say “a soot”?

Sophronia and Vieve, unnoticed, made their way down the spiral staircase and through the crowds to the far corner of the room, ending up behind the coal pile that had long since become their regular meeting spot.

Soap was waiting, fairly vibrating with anticipation.

“What took you so long?”

“Someone set off the alarm.”

“Not you two? Never you two.” Soap’s faith was endearing.

“Course not. Sophronia set up a patsy to take the fall.”

Soap swung to look at her.

Sophronia smiled slyly. “What can I say? Boys need lessons sometimes.”

Soap arched an eyebrow at her.

“Not you, Soap. You’re not a real boy. But Felix is being difficult.”

“Felix, is it?” Soap did not look pleased.

“Lord Mersey, I mean,” Sophronia corrected herself.

Soap looked even less pleased.

Sophronia didn’t quite understand where she’d gone wrong. Soap was usually such a good-natured chap. She changed the subject. “So, what’s the surprise?”