Etiquette & Espionage (Finishing School, #1)(66)

Sidheag and Agatha, who hadn’t really been involved in her covert investigations thus far, looked as though they were trying hard to understand what she was talking about.

“So what’s the plan, then?” asked Sidheag.

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Why not?”

“It involves a ball.”

Sidheag and Agatha paled at the very idea.

“I’m not ready for ~tru>

“Oooh, a ball.” Dimity clapped her hands.

“Well, there’s one the night I return home. It’s a good excuse to bring you three to visit. I can’t write to ask, of course. But it will be an excellent cover for searching the house and grounds while Frowbritcher and the other mechanicals are distracted.”

“But that’s the start of winter holidays. How are we to get the prototype into the appropriate hands?” Dimity wanted to know. “Even supposing we do find it.”

“That’s the other part of the plan. Someone told the school to recruit me. We have to figure out who reported on me to Lady Linette. We find out who that person is, we can give her the prototype.”

“I don’t suppose you know who that might be, do you?”

Sophronia grinned again. “No, but—”

Dimity said, “I know that look. That’s the look she gets right before she goes off exploring.”

“But?” prompted Sidheag.

“But we could break into the school records to find out.”

“Sophronia, that’s a terrible idea!” protested Dimity.

“You’re mad,” added Sidheag.

Agatha only looked wide-eyed.

“Ah, but I have the trump card.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yes. I’m going to borrow an obstructor and some soap.”


“I could, but it’ll take a long time. I spent years learning how. I’m thinking you need it before the holidays?”

Soap and Sophronia were sitting watching Sidheag take on a small herd of sooties in a rousing game of dice during a break in the late-night shift. The two girls had come for coal and stayed for conversation and, in Sidheag’s case, gambling. She really was a lost cause. Sophronia had hoped she might get Soap to teach her his neat trick of getting inside locked doors.

She nodded glumly.

“What do you want to know lock-picking for, anyway?” Soap asked.

“I need to find out about school-affiliated intelligencers in my home area who might have recruited me for Mademoiselle Geraldine’s.”

“You’re wanting to break into the record room?”

“That’s about the sum of it.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Soap, what if you get caught up top?”

“Now, there, miss, you think every time you come visit us we aren’t at risk? It’s a good thing there are so many sooties and so many places to hide. And that you bribe all of us with them smallish cakes. Because otherwise someone would have long since put a stop to these little visits of yours.”

Sophronia only gave him a look. She didn’t like Soap taking too many risks for her.

He grinned at her, sidled over, and bumped her shoulder. “Stop your fretting. I can get away. Plus, how you going to do it without me?”

Sophronia felt a little giddy despite her worry. “Oh, very well! But this is becoming quite the expedition.”


It took them a week to plan their raid on the recaider worry.ord room. Vieve agreed to lend Sophronia the obstructor with remarkably little fuss. She was involved in some new invention and it was taking up most of her time—even the temptation of a midnight record room break-in could not lure her away. She also told them where the room was located. “ ’Course I know. Whatcha take me for, an amateur? They keep records of inventions there, too.” After that there was a good deal of arguing about who should go and who should stay behind.

Sophronia didn’t tell anyone Soap was coming; she only said she had a way of getting inside once they found the place.

Dimity advocated most strongly. “I want to come! I haven’t had any exciting excursions yet.”

“It’ll be either you or Sidheag; we have to keep the numbers down.” And Agatha clearly isn’t interested.

Dimity looked pleadingly at Sidheag, who, not unsurprisingly, shrugged.

Dimity took that as an affirmative and clapped her hands in excitement.

“You may have to tone down your sparkles, you know. The point is not to be seen.”

Dimity, with great reluctance, removed all her jewelry and put on her darkest gown, a royal blue walking dress.

“Will I do?”

“Admirably.”

Soap was waiting as arranged on the deck outside Sister Mattie’s empty classroom, lurking among her potted plants. He materialized from darkness behind a tall foxglove. Good as a poison in large doses or for trouble breathing in small amounts, Sophronia remembered.

“Good evening, ladies.”

“Good evening, Soap. All prepared?” He was looking cleaner than usual, and his clothing almost fit. He put on his Sunday best for me. Sophronia was chuffed.

“Of course. You have the obstructor?”

“I do, indeed.” Sophronia showed him her wrist.

Dimity remained silent, her mouth a perfect O of amazement as she looked at Soap.