Rebel Magisters (Rebel Mechanics #2)(63)
“This is perfect,” I admitted.
Our conversation was interrupted once more as we were brought tiered stands of sandwiches, scones, and cakes. “Oh my, I’ll never be hungry for dinner,” I said.
“I suppose you dine early in the nursery with the children, as a governess,” she said, adopting the tone of a slightly condescending older sister.
“Yes, I’m afraid I do, especially while their uncle is out of town.”
When the waiter was out of earshot, she whispered, “I wonder if they’d notice if I stashed whatever we don’t eat in my purse. I could feed the girls in the boardinghouse on this for days.”
The room was fairly noisy, and our table was isolated, so I thought it might be safe to speak when the waiters were well away. I leaned forward, on the pretense of taking a sandwich, and said, “We have evidence of corruption at the highest levels in the government. The governor had to ask friends for loans to keep the colonies functioning until he can find the lost funds.”
I thought she would choke on the bite of cucumber sandwich she’d just taken. “Really?”
“We have the letter from the governor himself. Henry stole it from a courier.”
“Are you sure it’s genuine, that it isn’t a trap? If we publish it, will he know he has a mole and who it’s likely to be?”
I froze, considering the terrible consequences if that were to be the case, then shook my head. “No. He had no way of knowing what I overheard or that I would even have been in a place to overhear, and I don’t think he yet knows that the letter was taken. The courier got his bag back without knowing anything was missing.”
She nodded, thinking. “Well, then, perhaps it is real.”
“Henry believes this is what we need to make those who are reluctant ready for action. There are some in very high ranks who sympathize but who are unwilling to become involved. If they know this, then…”
“Then they will feel compelled to act.”
“I’ve written the article. I have the letter as proof if anyone needs to see it, but it remains with me.”
“I understand.” In a more conversational tone, she added, “Your new position sounds quite fascinating, though I never imagined you as a career girl. And working for the governor’s family! You must tell me what he’s like.”
“He’s been very kind to me, and he loves the children very much, but I don’t see him that often.”
We spent the rest of the time in sisterly chat. It felt surreal to me, as I’d never had such a conversation with my own sister. We’d never been close even before she’d sided with her father and denied my place in the family.
I barely suppressed laughter when Lizzie managed to tip the least messy sandwiches and a scone or two into her bag. “Oh, I have something for your children,” I said once the waiter had taken away the empty plates and cups. I handed her the envelope from my bag.
“How very sweet of you. I’m sure they’ll love hearing from their auntie.” She hooked her arm through mine as we left the tea room and went to the hotel lobby. There she kissed me on the cheek. “It was so good to see you again, sister dearest. We really should stay in touch more often.”
“You must let me know the next time you plan to be in the city,” I said, playing along.
I allowed myself a deep sigh of relief once I was in a cab on the way home. I hadn’t realized just how tense I’d been ever since Henry’s escapade to steal the letter. Now I knew the truth would come out.
*
It was probably just my imagination, but as Olive and I escorted Rollo to school the next morning, I fancied that I sensed an extra energy in the air, a buzz like an electrical current between people when they met. Were they talking about the scandalous news about the government? I hadn’t yet seen the newspaper, so I wasn’t entirely certain the news was out. It had been somewhat past the deadline to make it into the next morning’s edition, but I thought for something this important, they’d have delayed printing.
When the boys left their chaperones at Rollo’s school, they rushed to each other as though sharing exciting news, and I had to remind myself that this wasn’t the sort of news that would excite young boys. They’d thrill about a new machine, not financial mismanagement.
I finally saw a copy of the newspaper when we ran across a newsboy with an armload of papers. Instead of standing on a single corner, he kept on the move, letting the top of the front page peek out from under his coat. People dropped coins in his pocket and grabbed copies as they passed. The stream of customers was so steady that I couldn’t get close enough to buy a copy. I settled for attempting to read other people’s papers as they passed.
It was fairly obvious from the giant headline that the news was, indeed, out. “SCANDAL IN COLONIAL GOVERNMENT” the headline blared in letters a couple of inches high. In only slightly smaller letters, the paper asked, “WHERE IS THE MONEY?” I knew what the article said because I’d written it, so I didn’t try too hard to read it once I knew it was there.
“Miss Newton, slow down! You’re walking too fast,” Olive complained, making me realize that this development had put a real spring in my step. Now surely people would be willing to rise up. It wouldn’t just be a few wanting change.
When we came within sight of the Lyndon home, Olive forgot about wanting to walk more slowly. There was a carriage in front, unloading a passenger. Olive cried out, “Uncle Henry!” and ran forward, dragging me behind her. Though I had to admit, I was probably as excited to see him as she was.