Etiquette & Espionage (Finishing School, #1)(61)

But a quick observation proved the fight was not with any real intent.

Sidheag and Soap were squared off, fencing, each with a stoking pole and a fierce expression. They were almost matched to each other by height, and they were also causing a stir of excitement. The sooties about them began to place bets, wagering the lemon tarts Sophronia had taken such care to distribute fairly.

“What are you two up to?”

“This is brilliant, Sophronia. Did you know this boy knows proper streetside fisticuffs?” Sidheag’s dour face was animated with delight.

“Does he?” Streetside, but he lives in the air?

“Dirty fighting. It’s capital! Look at this!”

Soap ducked in under Sidheag’s swing and kicked her ankle.

Sophronia was shocked. One is not meant to ever kick during a fight! It isn’t gentlemanly, isn’t proper, isn’t done! “Soap, that’s unscrupulous!”

Soap stopped and turned to grin at her. “Yes, miss, but it works.”

While he was distracted, Sidheag poked him in the side with her pole.

Soap let out a woof and doubled over.

Sidheag came up next to him, and after he managed to straighten, threw a companionable arm around his soot-covered shoulders. She was more relaxed than Sophronia had ever seen her. “It makes sense. Why should we fight like gentlemen? After all, as you keep reminding me, Sophronia, we aren’t gentlemen. We aren’t even soldiers. We’re supposed to be intelligencers. We should learn to fight dirty. We should learn to fight any way we can.”

Sophronia tried to put her doubts aside and be sensible. It was more difficult than she thought. “That’s reasonable, I suppose. But kicking?”

“Well, miss, not to be rude, but you ladies aren’t sooties or soldiers. You don’t have much in the way of arm muscle. You ought to be kicking more; you’ve got more power in your legs, don’t ya? And you’re usually wearing them sharp-toed boots.”

Sophronia nodded. “Good point. But we’re also wearing lots of skirts.”

“Could get special boots made with metal reinforcements and attachments,” said Sidheag.

“Sidheag Maccon, did I just hear you mention designing a fashion accessory?” Sophronia made her tone all-over appalled, but she was thinking, Vieve could do something along those lines.

Sidheag grinned. Another one of those genuine smiles that made her look, if not pretty, at least less plain. It crinkled up her remarkable caramel eyes and softened her normally harsh features. Sophronia, at that moment, decided that the idea to bring Sidheag among the sooties was a resounding success.

But then a looming shadow appeared above them and said, “What’s this, what’s this?”

“Greaser—scatter!” yelled Soap.

{. Sophronia and Sidheag did as directed, running hard alongside the sooties down and around the back of one of the coal piles and squeezing into a crevice.

Soap, who was a noble idiot, intercepted the greaser.

“He isn’t going to get booted off school grounds for this, is he?” Sophronia asked, her heart sinking.

“What, Soap? For stopping and engaging in some mock swordplay?” One of the other sooties scoffed.

“So long as they didn’t mark you ladies as Uptops, the most he’ll get is an ear-boxing,” added another.

“Greasers like him. He keeps us all in line, and he works harder than any two of us put together,” explained the first.

Sophronia and Sidheag both let out sighs of relief.

Sidheag turned to her. “This is fun!”

“Finishing school’s not all bad, now, is it?”


“It’s not fair. I’m your first friend here! Why is it you persist in skulking off with Sidheag all the time?” Dimity was clearly trying not to whine.

“I hardly persist; we only go off once a week or so.”

“And you two keep giggling together about things.”

“I do not giggle without purpose. Lady Linette says you should never misapply a giggle. And Sidheag never giggles at all.”

“Well, it’s definitely not fair.” Dimity was perched on the edge of her bed, looking down at her feet sadly.

“She’s been helping me with fighting techniques.”

“I could use extra fight training.”

“Dimity, you don’t even want to learn. You told me you decided to entirely give over that subject. That you really only wanted to be a lady.”

Dimity sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

Bumbersnoot, who was snuffling around the bed frame looking optimistically for a stray lump of coal or perhaps a small spider he might incinerate, came waddling over.

Dimity patted him on the head, and he blew a little blast of smoke out one ear.

Sophronia nibbled a fingertip in thought. “I tell you what—how about you help me with etiquette in court and ball settings? You’re much better at remembering the order of precedence than I.”

Dimity brightened.

Which was how Dimity and Sophronia ended up doing extra practice in the evenings. After some initial reticence, Sidheag joined them. Dimity managed to recover from her jealousy and, as a result, attacked the Scottish girl with her customary rapid-chatter teasing, which prodded Sidheag out of her awkward ways. In exchange, Sidheag started showing Dimity some of the easier knife tricks. No blood, of course. Nothing further was said about mysterious late-night jaunts.