Etiquette & Espionage (Finishing School, #1)(42)

The flywayman with the bullhorn shouted back over the intervening distance, “Agreed.”





THE CORRECT WAY TO GET CAUGHT


What happened next?” Dimity was positively riveted by Sophronia’s tale.

“Professor Lefoux gave the flywaymen a fake prototype. It looked like a shiny metal dodecahedron.” It was the following morning, and they ought to be getting ready for breakfast, but instead they were lying in their beds chatting.

“I started to worry when you weren’t back after the bells stopped sounding.” Dimity’s pretty face was somber with reprimand. “You could have said something to me about where you were going.”

“I didn’t want to get you into any kind of trouble. Bumbersnoot is my concern. Also, I hoped to return before anyone noticed. In the end, I had to wait while the teachers cleaned up after the battle. Did you know they brought sooties up top and had them climb inside the balloon to make repairs?” Sophronia was pretty darn certain, from a gangly silhouette, that one of those sooties had been Soap. She did not say this to Dimity. For some reason she felt very private about and possessive of Soap. Also a little embarrassed. She suspected Dimity might scoff. Petunia had always been very mocking whenever Sophronia befriended the stable lads. Then she hadn’t minded so much. Now, after weeks of finishing school, she was beginning to concern herself with appearances.

“Regardless, I had to wait while everyone fussed over the balloon. I overheard the teachers talking.”

Dimity’s eyes widened appreciatively.

“Professor Lefoux said that the flywaymen would be back, because the prototype they passed over was a fake. She said it would fool them for a while, but that it was no guarantee of safety.” Sophronia rolled over and pulled her black velvet reticule out from under the bed. She extracted a few lumps of coal. Bumbersnoot was asleep at the foot of her bed, barely warm. He was conserving all of his energy, his tiny internal steam engine almost completely shut down. She put him on the floor.

Sophronia tapped him on the head with a chunk of coal and then placed it in front of his face. He made a low whirring noise, heated up slightly, and then began to eat. Shortly thereafter, steam emanated from his underbelly, and he got to his four tiny feet with a few squeaks and clunks.

Sophronia continued her story. “Professor Braithwope said something about takin V shdahoped tog refuge in the mist—going gray, he called it—to buy us extra time.”

Dimity looked thoughtful. “No mail drops for a while, then. Monique will be disappointed.”

“As indeed am I. I was going to write to Mumsy for more clothes. And we were going to drop your brother that glove.”

Dimity urged her on. “What happened next?”

“Sister Mattie asked about Bunson’s. Professor Lefoux said something about them doing their best.”

“I suppose that means Bunson’s is trying to build a replacement prototype,” Dimity suggested.

“Or a better-looking fake.”

“I suspect we’re heading in that direction, anyway,” said Dimity.

“Goodness, how can you tell? The moor always looks the same to me.”

“Well, the school will need proper repairs. I believe those are always conducted at Bunson’s.”

“Oh?” Sophronia was excited by this idea. She felt like they had been floating about aimlessly for an aeon.

“Well, the propeller is winding strong this morning.” The girls looked up to see Sidheag, arms crossed over her bony chest, wearing a long pink flannel nightgown and slouching against the doorjamb. Pink!

“Is that what that vibration means?” Sophronia asked without missing a beat. She ought to have known someone would overhear their conversation. At least it was Sidheag, and not Monique. Speaking of Monique, she’s going to try to send that letter as soon as we arrive at Bunson’s.

“Indeed.”

“How long have you been standing there?” Dimity wanted to know, drawing the covers up over her own red brocade nightgown.

“Long enough,” replied Lady Kingair, coming inside their room. She bent to pat Bumbersnoot, who was working busily on his second lump of coal.

“So you managed to scarper back here without being discovered?” she asked Sophronia.

“Yes.”

“Convinced of that, are ya?”

Sophronia felt a cold chill go up her spine.

“Yes, why?”

“Because Lady Linette is waiting for you in our sitting room, and she does not look pleased. She told me to tell you specifically, Sophronia, to dress and get yourself in there right sharp.”

“Oh, bother,” said Sophronia. “Dimity, will you keep an eye on Bumbersnoot for me?”

“Of course.”

“Bumbersnoot, stay here with Auntie Dimity, please.”

The mechanimal sat back on his haunches and sent a puff of smoke at her, tail wagging back and forth hopefully. Sophronia tossed Dimity another lump of coal, hoping to keep the dog’s attention in their room, and climbed out of bed. In the interest of appearing as innocent as possible, she donned her simplest dress—a blue muslin with white flowers—and Sidheag helped her do up the buttons. Over this Sophronia pulled a white pinafore. She elected simply to plait her hair, as it was fastest. With Lady Linette such things were always a bit dodgy—take time to be particularly presentable, or dress quickly? She popped a lace cap on her head and went reluctantly into their drawing room to see how much trouble she’d gotten herself into.