The next morning, the airship was back in its customary position, hovering over a hill west of town. The hodgepodge of buildings and mixed architecture that made up Bunson’s school was in view down the path. Sophronia blushed to think upon what she had seen the night before, and regretted not having Dimity to share it with.
When Sophronia entered the communal parlor wearing a carriage dress because she could not do up the back of her day gowns by herself, Dimity was in huddle with Sidheag. Sophronia walked over to their group with an open expression, but the girls stopped talking and only smiled back. Fake, unfriendly, cutting smiles of the kind Lady Linette had made them perfect over the course of six lessons. Sophronia sighed. Still not forgiven? But I have such interesting things to tell.
Then, before breakfast commenced, Mademoiselle Geraldine made a most shocking announcement, one that clearly distressed her.
“Ladies,” she said. “We will be taking a trip. A great trip.”
A collective gasp met this statement. The girls stopped reaching for crumpets and jam and looked up expectantly.
Sophronia sat back in her seat and looked at Monique out of the corner of her eye. Monique’s genuine surprise suggested she hadn’t known. Monique supposedly had an advocate among the teachers, and yet she hadn’t been told? The girl’s expression changed from shock to annoyance. Oh, ho, she thinks she should have been told. Very interesting.
“You knew.” Dimity was giving Sophronia an exasperated look.
Well, at least she’s talking to me. Sophronia nodded.
“Of course she knew! She’s the best, remember? Better than any of us,” Preshea interfered.
Dimity looked away, flushing.
“We are going to…” Mademoiselle Geraldine made an expansive gesture and left a pregnant pause, her stage training in action. “… London!”
Squeals of delight met that. Every girl wanted to go to London, even the ones who had been already. The shopping alone!
Sophronia’s dining table erupted into hushed exclamations.
“Think of it, town in March!”
“Directly before the Season. All the new gloves will be in!”
“I must write to Mummy and Daddy immediately to ask for an increase in my allowance.”
“Will there be balls? Oh, I do hope there will be balls!”
“There must be balls.”
Sophronia nodded to herself. That explained all the extra fuel. But their school never left the moor. The fact that Mademoiselle Geraldine’s was actually a massive airship was supposed to be secret. No one would believe it was a real finishing school if they knew it bobbed about shamelessly midair. Sophronia’s mind jumped to the problem of staying covert. Can we avoid populated areas all the way to London? She ought to be excited. She’d rarely had an opportunity to visit the capital. But what fun could she have in London if all her girlfriends were angry at her? It was hardly as though she and Soap could go tripping about Regent Street, cooing over lace tucks.
Mademoiselle Geraldine called for silence. It took awhile. “Now, now, ladies. Ladies! There will be plenty of time to talk among yourselves later. It will take us four days to get there. Classes will, of course, continue.” The headmistress took a deep breath, straining her stays alarmingly. “And that is not all!”
The girls quieted in anticipation of more delicious news.
“We will be joined by company on this excursion.” Mademoiselle Geraldine waved at the back of the room. The girls turned in their seats.
The dining hall doors opened and in walked… boys.
Mademoiselle Geraldine’s young ladies did not squeal at this, although it was certainly an even more squeal-worthy moment. Their training took over, and not a peep was to be heard. But there was the faint sucking hiss of multiple indrawn breaths, like helium escaping the big balloons.
Again, Dimity turned to Sophronia, as if she could not help herself. “Did you know about this?”
“Dimity!” reprimanded Preshea.
Sophronia had not known, but she wasn’t about to tell Dimity that. She merely tightened her lips.
“Oh, Sophronia!”