Etiquette & Espionage (Finishing School, #1)(32)
“No, probably not. Could I wake up first, please?”
“Certainly.” At which Sophronia paused. She had no idea how to dispose of her dirty bathing water. At home, she would have simp Culd/font>
Dimity poured herself some fresh water out of the pitcher and said, “Well?”
“I visited the land of soot and fire.”
“Sophronia, really. Do you mean to traumatize me with riddles first thing in the morning? If so, I should warn you, I’d consider that grounds for rescinding all offers of friendship.”
“It’s almost noon. I’ve been up for ages.”
“A habit you may come to regret.” But then Dimity put it all together. She emerged from washing her face with a gasp. “Sophronia! Did you visit the boiler room?”
“Yes!” Sophronia casually leaned back on both elbows.
“You aren’t allowed to do that!”
“So I learned.”
“But all the engine parts down there are exposed. A girl can see exactly how things work. It’s undignified.”
“It’s full of boys.”
Dimity paused, giving that statement its due consideration. “Yes, but the wrong class of boy, to be sure? I really wouldn’t if I were you. Terribly bad for one’s reputation. Then again, I don’t suppose there are any proper boys on board this school at all.”
“Not unless you count Professor Braithwope.”
“Certainly not. Now, Captain Niall, mind you, I’d count him.”
A knock came at their door. Sidheag stuck her head in. “Breakfast in ten minutes.” The tall girl looked much the same as she had the day before—her dress dowdy and her hair in one simple braid. She positively lounged against the doorjamb.
Sophronia wondered how she would fare during posture class.
“We won’t have him for a few days at least,” said the Lady of Kingair.
“Have who?”
“Captain Niall, of course.”
“Have him for what?”
“Lessons, silly. Did you think they only kept him on retainer for ground support?” With which the tall girl drifted away.
Sophronia and Dimity exchanged startled looks.
“What on earth could we girls possibly learn from a werewolf?” Sophronia wondered.
“How to keep a hat on no matter what the circumstances?” hazarded Dimity.
“We need to nip to the post,” Sophronia stated firmly as they left breakfast.
“We do?” Dimity was confused.
“My soiled glove, remember?” She produced the offending article from her reticule.
“Oh, yes, we were going to send it to my problematical brother for analysis. I should warn you, it’s unlikely anything will come of it. He’s very forgetful, my brother. Rather a nascent absentminded academic.”
Sophronia hesitated a moment, and then approached one of the older girls. “Pardon me, could you point us in the direction of the postal service?”
The girl looked down her nose at her. “Head steward handles that.”
“And where woul Cnd >The gd I find him?”
“Steward’s quarters, of course,” she said and turned away.
I guess we have been dismissed. “Dimity, any idea where the steward’s quarters might be?”
Dimity cocked her head. “Well, on a boat it’s one of the upper decks, midship, you know, to catch people boarding and the like.”
“But we boarded from below.”
“True.”
Sophronia frowned. The steward would be in charge of all the mechanicals for servicing and maintenance, as well as all the human household staff. “We need to find the main hub.”
“Follow the tracks?” suggested Dimity, pointing down to where the single track became multiples at the entrance to the dining hall, allowing various maid and footman mechanicals to service the tables.
The servants’ quarters of any house are an odd place to explore, full of derelict machinery and broken tracks, not to mention the personal items of the human staff. Not wishing to be late to class, Sophronia and Dimity moved along the main hallways quickly, following the track when it split off and delved to the side into what was clearly a servants’ area.
“Uh-oh, look,” Dimity said, pointing.
Ahead of them, rounding a far corner in the narrow hall, they could see the back of some very flowery skirts of the kind no human maid, and certainly no mechanical, would wear. It was a dress familiar to them both, for there had been praise of it over breakfast.
“Monique,” hissed Sophronia. “I wager she’s trying to get a message off the ship, too.”
Dimity nodded wisely. “To tell her contacts the location of the prototype, perhaps?”
“Or warn them of the delay. If I were her, I’d wait until I was free to hand it over in person. Too many other people want it. Any message, even one in code, could be intercepted.”
They drew back and followed the older girl at a discreet distance.
Peeking round the corner of the next corridor, they spotted her entering a large white door and closing it firmly behind her. After an exchange of glances, Sophronia and Dimity ran to the door. On it were written the words STEWARD’S OFFICE, CORRESPONDENCES SENT AND RECEIVED, MECHANICAL MISBEHAVIORS HANDLED, NO SILLINESS.