Curtsies & Conspiracies (Finishing School, #2)(74)

Felix had no choice. As a gentleman, he could do nothing but offer her his arm. He did so with grace if not alacrity.

Sophronia added, “And I believe Lady Kingair would also like to depart.”

Captain Niall, who was looking at Sophronia out of the corner of his eye, said, “I think I’ll be going as well.”

The potentate offered Sister Mattie his arm, and they pushed through the crowd. Captain Niall followed, grabbing at Sidheag’s sleeve in a lightning-fast move.

Sidheag left off her position, lurking partnerless near a potted palm, and trailed along with only mild confusion. She was game for anything that removed her from a ball. Plus, as she had once said to Sophronia, “Life’s always more interesting when I chum about with you.”

“What’s going on?” She craned her neck back and whispered to Sophronia.

“I’ll explain when we’re more secure.” Sophronia glanced meaningfully at the potentate’s back.

“Where’s Dimity?” Sidheag asked.

“Otherwise occupied.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Exactly.”

Sophronia turned to her escort and said in a low voice, “Lord Mersey, I know you believe my story.” She batted her eyelashes at him purposefully. “I was thinking there might be others who would be… interested… in Dimity’s current location.”

Felix blinked at her.

Lord save me, thought Sophronia, from boys without training. She nudged him with her elbow. “You know. Others.”

“Oh, yes, I see. Well, perhaps after the ball Father might, or…” Felix trailed off, Sophronia’s expression telling him she was profoundly disappointed. “Perhaps sooner,” he amended his speech.

They reached the street where the potentate’s carriage—a landau with footmen in full royal livery—stood waiting for them.

With the potentate, Sister Mattie, and Sidheag safely ensconced within, Captain Niall stood patiently waiting to hand Sophronia up. He was looking particularly well, especially by comparison to the werewolves from earlier that evening. Certainly his top hat was tied on, but he’d forgone the ubiquitous greatcoat for an impeccable black velvet cutaway jacket and matched trousers with a cream brocade waistcoat. His dark hair, longer than was fashionable, was brushed to silken, glossy waves. No wonder young ladies swooned. Felix was handsome in his brooding way, but next to Captain Niall he was boyish.

Sophronia leaned in and kissed Felix gently on the cheek, a reward for good behavior. “Thank you, Felix, for your understanding and your help.” She lowered her eyelashes prettily.

“Ria, you must be the most confusing girl I’ve ever met. You know I’m mad for you?”

“How kind of you to say.” Sophronia gave her hand to the werewolf, and he assisted her inside.

“Good hunting?” commented Sidheag, watching Felix’s retreating back as Sophronia settled in next to her.

“Son of a duke” was Sophronia’s only comment.


The drive back to Hyde Park was fast, tense, and uncomfortable. The potentate spent most of the time lecturing Sophronia on bandying accusations about without proper foundation.

“Imagine a hive interfering in matters of state! Even Westminster wouldn’t dare. You are a stupid, fanciful child. Accusing vampires willfully like that. You’ve been corrupted by association with that Golborne boy!”

Sister Mattie at first didn’t understand what was happening and then tried to defend Sophronia. “But the embroidered cushions did suggest the hive objected. I mean, our intelligencer inside, she indicated that they were upset with Picklemen actions.”

Sophronia perked up at that statement. So the embroidery was code—as I thought—detailing the danger between Westminster and the Picklemen. A spy from Mademoiselle Geraldine’s was trying to warn us from inside the hive. But when Madame Spetuna abandoned her post to infiltrate the flywaymen, there was no one to transport the cushions, and the warnings didn’t make it in time.

But the potentate dismissed this evidence. “Poppycock! I can not believe they would act without at least consulting me!”

Eventually, Sister Mattie merely tried to mollify him with platitudes. “Please, my lord potentate, try to remember that a pumpkin divided against itself cannot gourd!”

Sidheag followed the whole conversation in increasing bemusement, having no idea what was going on. Captain Niall held his tongue, stiff and uncomfortable in a vampire’s carriage. When they arrived back at the airship, the werewolf got out and skulked away into the night. Sophronia had no doubt he would wait for them groundside. He was no fool, Captain Niall.

Back on board, the potentate strode off to visit Professor Braithwope with one last sharp reprimand in Sophronia’s direction.

“You keep your opinions to yourself, little girl!”

Sister Mattie looked at her, face wrinkled with worry. “I’ll endeavor to keep him occupied, dears. But please remember, a lily cannot change its spots.”

As soon as it was safe to speak, Sidheag turned to Sophronia in frustration.

“What on earth is going on?”

“I don’t think much of our school’s patron, I’ll tell you that much,” said Sophronia, glaring at the vampire’s retreating back and sticking her tongue out at it childishly.

“Sophronia!”