Ann nods. “And I.”
They all look at me. My heart’s beating so hard I fear it will leap from my chest. I force a calm I don’t feel into my words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Felicity puts the tip of her hair in her mouth, moistens it with her tongue. “You didn’t feel anything at all?”
“Nothing.” I’m trying hard not to shake.
“Well,” she says, with a triumphant smile. “It would seem that the rest of us have a bit of magic in us. Pity about you, Gemma.”
It’s very funny, this moment. They think I’ve got no aptitude for the supernatural. I would laugh, if I weren’t so completely shaken.
“Heavens, Gemma,” Pippa says, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “You’re perspiring like a docks worker.”
“That’s because it’s too bloody hot in here,” I say, relieved to change the subject.
Felicity stands and offers me her hand. “Come on. Let’s claim the night.”
We stumble out of the cave. Miles above us, the moon has started to wane, the edges bitten off, but we bask in its light anyway, howling like wolves. We join hands and run around in a circle, breathe the cold, mossy night air into lungs that can barely hold it all in. I feel better straightaway.
“It’s terribly hot. I can scarcely breathe in this corset,” Felicity says.
“Yes, I wish we could take a dip in the lake,” Ann says.
“Why can’t we?” Felicity muses. “Who will unlace me? Anyone?”
Pippa covers her mouth and gives a little giggle as if she’s both horribly embarrassed by the idea and concerned about looking prudish. “We can’t do that.”
“Why not? There’s no one to see us. And I want to breathe freely for a bit. Here, Gemma—give us a hand.”
My fingers fumble with the laces and grommets but soon Felicity’s thin shift and the soft skin beneath it are both exposed. She gleams in the moonlight, a sliver of bone. “Who wants a dip in the lake, then?”
“Wait!” Pippa stumbles after her. “What are you doing? Felicity—this is obscene!”
“How can my ankles and arms be obscene?” she calls back.
“But you’re not supposed to show them. It isn’t decent!”
Felicity’s voice floats out to us. “Do what you will. I’m going in.”
The water looks cool and inviting. With effort, I manage to liberate myself from the tight corset. My body expands in a thank-you.
“Not you, too?” Pippa says when I pass her.
The frigid water saps the heat from my body immediately, freezing the air in my lungs into hard lumps. When I finally catch my breath, it’s to tell Pippa and Ann, hoarsely, “Come in. The water’s perfect, as long as you don’t need to breathe or feel your legs.”
Pippa responds with a high-pitched shriek the minute she gets knee-deep.
“Shhh, keep your voice down. If Mrs. Nightwing finds us, she’ll punish us by forcing us to teach at Spence for the rest of our lives like that spinsterish, sour-faced crew she’s got teaching us now,” Felicity says.
Pippa tries to cover herself with her hands. Her modesty is showing. Right now, I wouldn’t care if Prince Albert himself saw me. I only want to float here, suspended in time.
“If you’re that modest, Pip, get under the water,” Felicity says.
“It’s so cold!” Pippa answers in that same high-pitched voice.
“Suit yourself, then,” Felicity says, swimming out to the middle of the lake.
Ann stays on the bank, fully clothed. “I’ll keep a watch out,” she says.
The rest of us link our arms for warmth and let our feet lick at the sandy bottom. We’re like a band of floating nomads.
“What do you suppose Mrs. Nightwing would say if she could see us now in all our grace, charm, and beauty?” Pippa giggles.
“She’d probably fall over dead,” Ann says.
“Ha!” Felicity says. “There’s wishful thinking.” She leans her head back, lets her hair float out on the water like a halo.
Pippa’s head is up like a shot. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” The lake water in my ears makes it hard to hear anything. But there it is. The woods echo with the sound of a tree branch snapping in two.
“There it is again! Did you hear it?”
“Criminy,” Ann croaks.
“Our clothes!” Pippa scrambles out of the water on heavy legs and runs for her chemise just as Kartik steps out of the trees, carrying a makeshift cricket bat. I can’t tell who is more shocked and surprised—Kartik or Pippa.
“Avert your eyes!” she says in near hysteria, trying desperately to cover herself with the bit of lace and cloth.
Too astonished to argue, Kartik does, but not before I’ve seen the look in his eyes. Wonder and awe. As if he truly has seen a goddess made flesh. The visceral impact of her beauty is more powerful than any word or deed. The cloudiness of my mind clears long enough to record this.
“If this were ancient times, we would hunt you down and put out your eyes for what you’ve seen,” Felicity snarls from the lake.
Kartik says nothing. As quickly as he came upon us, he’s gone, running through the woods.
“Next time,” Felicity says, moving to help Pippa, “we will put his eyes out.”
The room is dark, but I know she’s awake. There’s none of her snoring.
“Ann, are you awake?” She doesn’t answer, but I’m not giving up. “I know you are, so you might as well respond.” Silence. “I won’t give up until you do.” Outside, an owl announces that he is near.
“Why do you do that to yourself? Cut yourself the way you do?”
There’s no answer for a good long minute, and I think that perhaps she has fallen asleep after all, but then it comes. Her voice, so soft I have to strain in the dark to hear it, to hear the faint cry she’s holding back.
“I don’t know. Sometimes, I feel nothing, and I’m so afraid. Afraid I’ll stop feeling anything at all. I’ll just slip away inside myself.” There’s a cough and a sniffling sound. “I just need to feel something.”
The owl makes his call in the night again, waiting to see if anyone is at home.
“No more doing that,” I say. “Promise me?”
More sniffles. “All right.”
It feels as if I should do something here. Put my arm around her. Offer a hug. I don’t know what to do that wouldn’t horrify and embarrass us both.
“If you don’t, I’ll be forced to confiscate your needlepoint, and where would you be without the satisfaction of finishing your little Dutch girl and windmill in seven different colors of thread, hmmm?”
She gives a weak gurgle of a laugh, and I’m relieved.
“Gemma?” she says after a moment has passed.
“Hmmm?”
“You won’t tell, will you?”
“No.”
More secrets. How did I end up keeping so many? Satisfied, Ann shifts in her bed and the familiar snoring begins. I stare at a patch of wall, willing sleep to come, listening to the owl cry into a night that never answers.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“I KNOW YOU DON’T BELIEVE ANYTHING HAPPENED last night, but I think we should try to contact the other world again,” Felicity whispers to me. We’re standing in the middle of the cavernous ballroom waiting for Mrs. Nightwing to begin our dance instruction. Above us, four chandeliers drip crystals whose light cuts dazzling squares into the marble floors below.
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” I say, choking back my panic.
“Why not? Are your feelings hurt that you didn’t feel what the rest of us did?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snort, a sound that seems to accompany my lies, which is most unfortunate. I’m on the road to becoming a snorting fool these days.
“What, then?”
“I happen to find it dull. That’s all.”
“Dull?” Felicity’s mouth hangs open. “You call that dull? Dull is what we’re going to experience in a moment.”
Pippa is standing with Cecily and her crowd, desperately trying to get Felicity’s attention. “Fee, come stand over here with us. Mrs. Nightwing’s about to pair us off.”