Rebel Magisters (Rebel Mechanics #2)(35)
The servants’ hall was deserted except for one last scullery maid finishing the washing up. She was too engrossed in her work to notice us moving down the hallway behind her. We made it to the back stairs without being noticed. Once in the stairwell, we removed our coats and hats and waited while Harry checked upstairs. He came back and gestured for me to go first. Though I encountered no one else along the way, I still breathed a deep sigh of relief when I shut the door behind myself. I quickly undressed and got in bed, both because I needed the rest and because the sooner I was exactly where I was supposed to be, the better I felt.
*
I attempted to keep to some sort of order the next day with the younger children. Flora was so eager to hold court as the lady of the house for her grandfather that it would have been impossible to make her do anything resembling schoolwork. I was content with letting her plan the week’s meals and events with the housekeeper while I attempted to get Rollo and Olive to do their work.
When Henry came to the schoolroom that afternoon and suggested a walk to the Public Gardens, I could have hugged him. “I’m beginning to think that it was unrealistic to expect their studies to continue uninterrupted on such a trip,” I told him as we walked toward the gardens. “They’re far too distracted.”
“That was one of my objections to the trip in the first place,” he said. “But don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you if you don’t achieve miracles. Perhaps they’ll absorb something along the way.”
“Rollo did write a rather nice paper on the airship,” I admitted.
“So all is not lost.”
When we reached the gardens, we let the children run ahead while we walked more sedately behind them. “Would you be up for another excursion tonight?” he asked me, dropping his voice so it wouldn’t carry.
“Your friends?”
“I received a rather cryptic invitation this morning from the friend we were talking about at the Mechanics’ party. He said he and some colleagues need my expertise on a delicate matter.”
“What kind of expertise? Insects?”
“Probably more like larceny.”
“And you want me to come along?”
“I may need a chaperone to protect my virtue.” More seriously, he added, “He was one of my more political friends in school. He was never a Masked Bandit because he lived in Boston, but he was part of the planning, and he was the one who first inserted the idea of revolution into the scheme. I imagine he and his local friends may be planning a similar venture. This might be an opportunity for you to present the Mechanics’ perspective.”
“In that case, I’ll see if I can get Mary to arrange a similar escape for us tonight.”
*
That night after dinner, we went through the same routine of sneaking into the back stairwell, putting on coats and hats, and slipping out with the servants. This time, though, we headed a different direction, remaining in the wealthier district. The streets were lined with mansions not much smaller than the one where we were staying. We went up the front steps of one of them, and Henry pushed the bell.
The door was opened not by a servant, but by a tall girl about my age wearing loose, heavily embroidered robes that I thought must have been the aesthetic dress I’d heard about. I’d never before met anyone daring enough to forego corsets and all the layers of clothing a proper lady required. “Henry Lyndon, you haven’t changed a bit,” she said.
“Camilla?” he asked, his eyes widening slightly. “You certainly have. You’re all grown up.”
“Be sure to tell my brother that. He refuses to see it.” With a glance at me, she added, “And you brought a friend.” She didn’t sound angry about that, but she wasn’t particularly welcoming, either.
“This is Verity Newton, who’s part of my organization,” Henry said. “Verity, this is Camilla Seton, the baby sister of one of my university friends.”
“Baby, hmph,” Camilla said. “I suppose you’d better come in rather than us talking on the stoop.” She turned and headed into the house, leaving us to follow her and close the door behind us. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was so accustomed to having servants to do everything that she’d never learned how to greet guests and show them in.
From the entry foyer, I could hear the sounds of a wild party somewhere in the house. Music played, and there were shouts of laughter. Henry and I exchanged a glance, and he raised an eyebrow.
“They’re in the ballroom,” Camilla said, moving past us to lead the way up the stairs. She conjured a globe of light in the palm of her hand as she climbed into the darkness. Henry did the same. It seemed odd for there to be no light in the house, which also seemed sparse on furnishings. There were no paintings on the walls, and the niches were devoid of sculptures.
“Aren’t your parents at home, Camilla?” Henry asked. “And what about the servants?”
“My parents are abroad. The house is supposed to be closed up, but Brad and I can get in.” She turned to glance over her shoulder at Henry. The magical glow coming from below her face gave her a devilish appearance. “They think I’m at finishing school, learning to be utterly useless.”
When we reached the top of the stairs, the party sounds were even louder, and light streamed into the hallway from the ballroom at the rear of the house. Henry and I followed Camilla, who didn’t seem to care whether or not we were behind her.