Curtsies & Conspiracies (Finishing School, #2)(54)

Professor Shrimpdittle, at one end, had spent the entire meal glaring at Professor Braithwope. The visiting teacher’s sandy hair was mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly. His blue eyes were watery from lack of sleep. His attitude and appearance were unsettling. The students sensed the tension and were embarrassed. Really, he should try to hide his animosity. It wasn’t done to allow emotions to impact anyone else’s enjoyment of a meal!

The lady teachers were holding their own, despite a grumpy guest, except Professor Lefoux, who was stoically shoving soup into her mouth in the annoyed manner of any woman when a man is misbehaving.

Sidheag’s attention had been caught by the arrival of Madame Spetuna. The fortune-teller was making her way to the dining table. A place was laid for her, so she had been anticipated, although she had missed the soup course. She was permitted to sit, with only a dirty look from Mademoiselle Geraldine, who thought punctuality more important than anything else, including bathing, brains, and breathing.

Sophronia wished for an opportunity to talk to the fortune-teller alone, to test out her suspicions that she was an agent. She considered breaking into the record room to see if there were any files on the lady. Madame Spetuna sat next to Professor Braithwope. The vampire took no food, only sipping a little port. The two engaged in animated conversation, much to the continued annoyance of Shrimpdittle.

Sophronia said, “Professor Shrimpdittle seems quite emotional over the presence of a vampire. I wonder if he is entirely stable. One doesn’t have to like them, but they are here to stay. One must at least be polite.”

This caused all three of the young men at their table to look at her with varying expressions of confusion.

“He’s all right, is Shrimpdittle,” said Pillover. Sophronia remembered, at that moment, that he was the youngest of the boys on board and had said he was confused as to why he had been permitted this trip—which was meant to be a reward for boys of high standing. Had Shrimpdittle insisted Pillover be brought along, intending to put the boy at risk? He could be working for the Picklemen. Did that mean the Picklemen were trying to kidnap Dimity and Pillover?

Sophronia nibbled her bottom lip, staring pensively at the head table. She was bent on getting Vieve’s agenda enacted regardless of the man’s motives. “He seems unhinged. Is he fond of the drink, perhaps? Don’t you feel as if his objections against the supernatural are excessive?”

“What are you implying?” demanded Felix.

“Me, implying? Nothing at all. Although, it could be that he is trying to hide favor or income.”

Monique, of all people, jumped on this idea. “Pretending to hate them, when he really is progressive? Are males of his scientific ilk any good at acting?”

It was a stylish trap, and Sophronia was almost grateful to Monique for staging it, so she didn’t have to. Now the boys at their table either had to defend their teacher as faithful to the conservative cause, but possibly insane, or allow the ladies to imply Shrimpdittle was not honest to the moral foundation of their school.

The boys did neither, being trained only in the ways of infernal devices and not inferring derisively. All of them, even Felix, looked confused. Sophronia hoped that the rumor was out there now—was Professor Shrimpdittle to be trusted? Whose politics did he really back? Was he going mad?

Sidheag jumped in to help. “You know, the other day when we were grounded and Professor Niall was around, I saw them engaged in conversation.”

The three boys only looked more confused.

“Professor Niall,” explained Sophronia, “is a werewolf.”

“Never!” objected Lord Dingleproops. “Not Shrimpdittle!”

Agatha tried as well. “And I saw him being nice to a kitten, once.”

Everyone looked at her, puzzled.

Agatha blushed beet red. “Well,” she practically whispered, “that’s hardly very evil genius of him, now is it?”

Dinner conversation evolved away from the topic at that point, but Sophronia was tolerably certain the school would be buzzing by bedtime with Professor Shrimpdittle’s motives in question.

Her own mind buzzed. She was holding on to too many threads at once and attempting to solve too many puzzles. It wasn’t only Shrimpdittle; there was the information on the throw cushions to consider. Why had that shipment been so important? Was Madame Spetuna involved? Who were the pillows warning about: Picklemen, vampires, or some other element? And how was the Dimity kidnapping attempt connected to this? Did it all come down to the new dirigible technology? And was the guidance valve at the center of the puzzle?

The others chattered, leaving Dimity, Sophronia, and Pillover to themselves at the end of the table.

Sophronia looked at Pillover a long moment. “What do you think of this kidnapping attempt?”

Pillover’s dour face brightened. “Spiffing. I could do with a vacation.”

Dimity put it together. “Monique’s sudden change of heart and ball invitation? You think it has something to do with that?”

“Of course I do.”

“Could we turn it down then?” begged Pillover plaintively.

Dimity whirled on him. “Absolutely not! We should take this as an opportunity to flush out our enemies! Right, Sophronia?”

Sophronia massaged her temples. “This is making my brain hurt.”