Etiquette & Espionage (Finishing School, #1)(25)

Sidheag looked Sophrwidlooked onia up and down. “You’re good. I can see why they wanted you.”

Preshea poured everyone tea from a nearby pot and then passed around biscuits. Dimity offered one to Bumbersnoot. He sniffed at it with his mechanical nose, then opened his mouth wide, revealing two cavities: one leading to a storage compartment and the other to a tiny boiler. Dimity popped the biscuit into storage, where it would no doubt grow stale. Bumbersnoot continued his explorations.

Preshea finished serving and began explaining. “Old Lefoux has charge of modern weaponry and technological advancements. She’s an honorary member of the Order of the Brass Octopus. They don’t allow women, not officially, but they certainly use her designs.”

Bumbersnoot approached Agatha and opened his mouth impolitely. Agatha hesitated, reached into her reticule, and fed him a wooden clothespin. It went into the boiler, if the resulting smoke coming out of the mechanimal’s ears was any indication. Bumbersnoot’s tail wagged in approval.

“And Lady Linette is music and…?” Sophronia prompted.

Preshea obliged, puffing up with self-importance. “Intelligence gathering, of course; principles of deceit; fundamental espionage; and rudimentary seduction. I wager you can’t wait for seduction class, can you, Agatha?”

Agatha looked petrified at the very idea.

“Don’t worry,” said Sidheag. “Doesn’t happen until fifteen.”

Sophronia was not to be thwarted in her quest for information. “And Mademoiselle Geraldine—do we have any lessons with her?”

“If you’ve met her, you’ve already had one. Ostensibly she’s dance and dress, but really she’s diversion. You know she’s the only one who doesn’t know what this school is really teaching?”

Except for me, of course. Although Sophronia did feel she had it down to two options, neither of them finishing school–related. Intelligencers or assassins. She hadn’t been aware until now that either position was open to a female. Sophronia felt that, given her propensity for dumbwaiters and penchant for observation, she’d quite enjoy being an intelligencer, so long as she was spying on someone interesting. But she wasn’t certain about being an assassin. She’d once caused Frowbritcher to run over a mouse, and she still felt guilty about it.

“And Sister Herschel-Teape is household management?”

“Well, that’s part of it.” Preshea smiled for the first time, showing perfect small white teeth.

“It’s Preshea’s favorite class already,” said Agatha softly, speaking for the first time.

“Sister Mattie also covers medicinal cures and proper poisonings for every occasion.” Preshea looked positively animated.

Agatha explained further. “Preshea can’t wait until she gets to poison her first husband. She’s a great admirer of Mary Blandy’s work.”

“Oh, you flatter me.”

So we are being trained to be assassins? Or are they joking with me? Sophronia looked back and forth between Preshea and Agatha. Agatha didn’t look like she knew how to joke.

“And Professor Braithwope. What does he teach?”

Preshea went quiet at the name, her face once again dour and sulky. Which was odd, because Sophronia had liked Professor Braithwope best of the bunchforof the .

“He’s history.” Agatha plucked at a ruffle on her skirt. Her voice shook slightly. “Some deportment and etiquette as well.”

“But in actuality?” Sophronia prodded.

“Well, vampire lore and defense. What else?” Preshea pretended impatience, but she was clearly a little scared.

Sophronia thought quickly. Professor Braithwope had said he was just getting up when she disturbed him, yet it was after dark. He’d sneezed at garlic mash. He’d got the cork stuck on his fang, not his tooth! Of course. My first vampire, she thought, disappointed in herself for not realizing it at once and in Professor Braithwope for not being more… well… vampiric.

Preshea stood. “Speaking of Professor Braithwope, we ought to get ready, ladies.”

The girls began to rummage about, gathering up lesson books and putting on bonnets. Monique reappeared, looking lovely and pulled together in a sweeping day dress of rose silk. With a good deal of bustle they filed out of the room, following Monique, who assumed the position of preeminence without challenge.

Sophronia summoned Bumbersnoot with an imperious gesture. The mechanimal bumped into her shoe and looked up. “Stay!” she said firmly, and then, “Sleep.” The mechanized dog sat back on its haunches and made a little whistling hum before relaxing down, all internal components stilled. Gracious me, it worked!

Sophronia trotted after the group, ending up behind Sidheag and next to Dimity. “Where are we going?”

“Lessons, I suppose.” Dimity grinned at her.

“At night?”

“Apparently the academy keeps London hours. Might as well get us accustomed to the Season. Or so Sidheag says.”

“I like Sidheag,” said Sophronia, not caring if the tall girl could hear her. “She reminds me of my brother Freddy. Freddy never pinched as hard as the others.”

Dimity lowered her voice. “She’s not very ladylike.”

“I don’t think that is necessarily a character flaw. Some of the most disagreeable people I know are the most ladylike.”