“There isn’t enough of me to go around,” she muttered, climbing after the other students.
So it was that the tea party attendees—still in fancy dress—as well as the human staff and a handful of the off-shift greasers and engineers found themselves walking across a moor. The night was clear and the moon so near to full that, despite the cold, it looked to be a pleasant hike. One could easily pretend the lump of a tor off to the left was picturesque. Privately, Sophronia always thought tors looked like cow pats. Young men offered young ladies their arms. Bunson’s teachers offered Geraldine’s theirs. All was amicable.
Mademoiselle Geraldine stayed on board. She was still a little tipsy. Sophronia hung back in hopes of catching a roving sootie. If she could get a message to Handle about the fact that there were loose Pickleman intelligencers—not to mention a loose vampire—on board she’d feel much better about the whole situation.
She overheard the headmistress’s brief exchange with Sister Mattie.
“No, dear, no. You know I never leave the ship. I shall be perfectly topping here. I will avoid open flame, and roving fang, and finish the bubbly. Don’t concern yourself on my account. I’ll see you in the morning. Enjoy your midnight jaunt.” She belched quietly.
“Oh, really,” said Sister Mattie. “Just be careful?”
“Oh, my dear, what could possibly go wrong?”
Sophronia was never more sensitive to the headmistress’s ignorance than at that juncture. It felt horrible, leaving the school without any protection. All the fallen dirigible had now was a headmistress who knew nothing, a crazy vampire who knew a whole lot but couldn’t remember any of it, and a handful of sooties.
“Lady Linette.” Sophronia wove her way through the long line of strolling couples to her teacher. Preshea had found herself a tall moon-faced lad who looking nothing short of stunned at his good fortune. Poor chap. She exchanged a brief glance with the deadly brunette, and then left her to her work.
“Permission to speak freely?” Sophronia had once heard a soldier use that phrase.
“At a school for spies, Miss Temminnick? Surely you jest.” Lady Linette stared at her, unblinking. They were of a height, for Lady Linette still wore her heeled slippers.
Sophronia was impressed—only Lady Linette would hike across the moor in Paris kid shoes with a military lift. She looked meaningfully at Lady Linette’s escort, the oldest and most severe of the Bunson’s teachers.
Lady Linette sighed. “Excuse me a moment, Professor Faldetta? I’m certain you understand. She’s one of those students. You must have those?”
“Say no more, dear lady. Say no more.”
Sophronia and Lady Linette moved away, out of everyone’s hearing.
“Quickly, child.”
“I wish to stay with the ship.” Sophronia almost shocked herself with the statement. My goodness, she thought, I am growing up. Either that or I’m learning the value of putting in the appearance of playing by the rules.
“What did you just say?”
“I’ve no intention of actually going aboard, and I shall certainly stay away from any possible explosion. It’s only that I don’t feel right about leaving the professor unguarded.”
“He has Mademoiselle Geraldine.”
“She’s partaken rather freely of the champagne.” Quite apart from her being a figurehead and incompetent.
“Miss Temminnick! Imagine speaking of your betters in such a manner.”
Sophronia gritted her teeth. Even when she wanted to be straight with Lady Linette, it was near on impossible to tell her the truth. At this point, both of them automatically twisted their words.
A new suspicion occurred—perhaps Lady Linette was behind it all? Perhaps this was her scheme—not to crash the airship—but to get them all inside Bunson’s overnight, a mass infiltration. Sophronia switched tactics. “Whatever it is you want to find out at Bunson’s, you can’t possibly need me as well as everyone else.”
Lady Linette cocked her head. “Is that what you think is going on?”
“I think it’s a possibility. And if not, you are the type to seize on this as a serendipitous opportunity.”
“But?”
“But I think the crash was arranged, and we both know who likely arranged it. I think the sooties are in danger and someone has to stay with them. And I think there are Picklemen already on board. You didn’t believe me before, and this is the result. You owe me.”
“Do I really?” Lady Linette was a master at controlling voice and expression.
“Please, Lady Linette, I’m begging you.”
“Are you indeed? A novel experience for us both. But it’s hardly sporting of me to make an exception only for you, Miss Temminnick.”
“Look at them. I’m the only one who even wants to stay.” Sophronia gestured in frustration.