Sophronia spent longer than she should soaking in the fabulous hot water, though it hurt at first and all her wound dressings had to be removed. Pilpo checked on her twice, to make certain she hadn’t fallen back asleep. The third time he appeared, eyes averted, and deposited a beautiful day dress on a marble statue nearby. He said not to bother doing up the bodice, as the doctor had arrived and would want to look at her shoulder. There were assorted filmy white underthings, but no corset, which was good, as Sophronia couldn’t have possibly done it up herself.
She struggled out of the tub and dressed with care. It seemed to take a very long time. The dress was dark teal silk, with black lace trim and a skirt of three tiers. It had a jacket with tiered sleeves that closed up the front, but even so, Sophronia wished for a lady’s maid. It had been chosen with care as easy to put on, but everything was a challenge with only one arm. Nevertheless, Sophronia was on her own, for Lord Akeldama didn’t keep female staff. She wondered where the dress came from.
The doctor waited for her in the dressing room. He was a genial elderly gentleman with an air of discretion, very little hair, and sad eyes. He did not ask how she had acquired her injuries, merely treated them with care and concern as to her resulting appearance.
“Such a pretty girl must, perforce, be left without scars.”
Certainly, he was exactly the kind of doctor Lord Akeldama would keep on retainer for his drones.
He left her with a cataplasm for her eyes, a sling for her arm—“Keep it on this time, young lady!”—and bandages for everything else. He then fastened her bodice for her, in the manner of a man proficient in fashion, because with her arm back in a sling she couldn’t do it herself.
Sophronia returned to the drawing room to find Pilpo in his element, entertaining a chattering gathering that included Lady Linette, Sister Mattie, Pillover, Agatha, several sooties, Smokey Bones, and, best of all, Dimity. Soap was still there as well. He was also still asleep.
Dimity ran to Sophronia, looking as if she very much wanted to hug her, but settling for cheek kisses and cooing noises. Despite her bath and visit with the doctor, Sophronia knew she still looked awful. From the thinly disguised horror in Dimity’s eyes, she suspected it was worse than even she could imagine.
“Oh, Sophronia, what you must have been through!”
Agatha followed, no less pleased, but not so effusive about it. She clasped Sophronia’s good hand briefly with her old shy smile. “Welcome the returning hero.”
“Oh, stop,” said Sophronia, charmed.
Pillover mooched after the two girls. He was grinning, of all absurd things, a wide genuine smile. Sophronia would never have believed it if she hadn’t seen with her own eyes.
Agatha seemed pleased with life. “Pillover is a hero, too, did you know?”
Dimity recovered her composure at that, enough to say, under her breath, “Oh, really. He’s no better than a mangel-wurzel.”
Sister Mattie, however, agreed with Agatha. “Indeed he is. Helped us to escape, he did. Bunson’s was in league with the Picklemen, as we suspected. Well, if not in league, at least complicit. Anyway, Agatha’s young man here helped to free Lady Linette and me.”
This worried Sophronia. “Oh, dear Pill, will it detrimentally affect your school standing?”
Pillover shook his head. “No, increase it. Bunson’s doesn’t hold traitorousness against a fellow. After this, I’ll have moved up to Reprobate Genius. One step closer to true Evil.”
“Where’s Vieve?” Sophronia asked, assuming that the little inventor would have been involved in any Bunson’s escapades.
Pillover shrugged. “Said she didn’t want to see large-scale destruction of her beloved technology. Said she knew it’d be necessary, that you’d probably see to it, but she’d rather not know the details.”
Sophronia wondered if Vieve had been thinking of the Picklemen’s mechanicals or if she was smart enough to have realized all along that the airship was the target. It hardly mattered, and even if Sophronia asked, Vieve wouldn’t tell her. Sophronia respected her all the more for that.
“I left Bumbersnoot with her to be fixed.” Dimity’s tone was questioning.
“Good decision.” Sophronia approved, especially as London was likely rife with anti-mechanical sentiment right about now. “So why’d you do it, Pill? I thought you didn’t enjoy adventure.”
“Did I say I enjoyed myself?”
Sophronia did not point out that he was grinning, nor did she say anything about the fact that he kept casting little sideways glances at Agatha.
“Happy to have you here, Pill.” Sophronia hid her own smile.
“Well,” groused Pillover, resuming his normal dour expression, “so you should be.”
Dimity tutted. “Heaven forfend you enjoy yourself, you wombat.”
Agatha said nothing, although she did look a tiny bit smug.
Dimity inched close to Sophronia and clasped her good hand fervently. “What happened after Monique left you? Please don’t keep us in suspense any longer. We were so worried.”