Etiquette & Espionage (Finishing School, #1)(27)

Monique was trying not to look interested. “Why?”

“Our scientists suspect he is in a constant state of swarm because he is responsible for the queen’s safety.”

This was all very confusing to Sophronia, who had heard very few of the terms he was spouting forth and knew almost nothing—beyond late-night parlor stories—about vampires. I wonder what the professor’s range is? That might be a rude question. She was just about to ask for clarification on the word “praetoriani” when an explosion shook the classroom.

The entire airship lurched to one side and then righted itself. An odd sensation, since, until that moment, Sophronia had quite forgotten they were afloat.

Several of the girls screamed.

Displaying the speed he had only recently described, Professor Braithwope dashed out the door. Rather than waiting to be told to stay put, Sophronia leapt up and followed him.

The hallway was in chaos, filled mainly with young ladies, most of them covered in some kind of soot. Apart from the soot, they were all dressed beautifully, and were chattering among themselves with more animation than distress. Sophronia estimated around two dozen or so; perhaps half the attendees of the school? She hadn’t yet managed a firm grasp on the numbers, but Mademoiselle Geraldine’s seemed to have fewer students than one would expect from a normal finishing school.

Professor Lefoux, taller than most by a head, was trying to control the chaos.

“Now, ladies, calm down, do! Is this any way to behave in a crisis? What has Lady Linette told you time and time again?”

The girls quieted and stood expectantly. One or two took out handkerchiefs and began trying to repair the sooty damage to gown and face.

“That was not a rhetorical question, ladies!” snapped the Frenchwoman. Professor Lefoux herself was far more soot-covered than any of the others, and less inclined to deal with it. She had her hair back in a tight bun that appeared to pull her skin away from her eyes. It made her look like a greyhound that had stuck its head out a carriage window.

“In a crisis, remain calm,” called out one voice from the crowd.

“And?” Professor Lefoux gestured impatiently with both hands.

“of ize="-1Assess any damage to one’s attire. A lady is never disreputable in public, unless intended for manipulation of sympathies.”

“Good. Anything more?”

“Ascertain the nature of the emergency. See if it can be turned to your advantage or used as an opportunity to gather information,” said another voice.

While all this was going on, Sophronia—unconsciously following the instructions being repeated dutifully around her—made her way through the crowd to the open door of Professor Lefoux’s classroom. Professor Braithwope stood on the threshold, staring in. He had out his own handkerchief and was waving it about in front of his face ineffectually, trying to dispel the smoke still permeating the room.

Sophronia nudged up next to him and looked inside. A proper classroom. There were uncomfortable-looking chairs facing tables covered in interesting-looking apparatus and scientific instruments. The walls were tacked with sketches of complex devices. The room, like the hallway, was in chaos. It might have started life as some kind of laboratory or engineering chamber, but its contents were now overturned, smoked, and covered liberally in black powder.

“I suppose Professor Lefoux and her students haven’t had much luck in creating an alternate prototype,” said Sophronia mildly.

“Whot?” The vampire sucked on a fang, looking thoughtful. He turned dark eyes on his newest student. “Appears as if they haven’t. Wait a moment there, whot! Where did you come from, young lady?”

“Your class, sir. Remember, we were just there.”

The vampire only looked at her, not even acknowledging her levity. “Tell me, Miss Temminnick. What was the first thing you wanted to know, just now, before the explosion?”

Sophronia saw no reason to prevaricate. If he really wanted a window to her thoughts, then any possible rudeness was irrelevant. “Your range, sir. Being that you’re a rove, as I’m assuming this school is no hive, I was wondering how a vampire in a dirigible managed to float all over the place the way you do. Then I figured you must be bound to the school itself, or something like.”

“Something like, indeed.”

“Then I was wondering, since you were instructing us in defense against vampires, what would happen if you fell overboard. What would happen to your tether? Would it snap? Would you die?”

The vampire narrowed his eyes, looking down his nose at her. He avoided her question by asking her one of his own. “And the explosion—what do you make of it?”

“Perhaps Professor Lefoux should not have tried steel first.”

“My goodness, you do pay attention.”

“Will you be able to convince Monique to tell you where she stashed the prototype?”

He said nothing at that.

But she’s only a student. Sophronia wanted to ask why they didn’t torture Monique or something. After all, this seemed as if it might be that kind of school.

Professor Lefoux came bustling over. “Ah, Professor Braithwope. Sorry to disturb. Little problem with the you-know-what; probably shouldn’t have used steel. Copper is obviously superior.”

Professor Braithwope looked down at Sophronia, who gave the vampire an arch look and returned to his classroom and the other girls.