There were a few cries of outrage from the young ladies. After all, they didn’t want to be associated with builders any more than the aristocrats strolling through Hyde Park.
Monique was particularly upset. “We can’t be seen to be here, on a ship emblazoned with an advertisement! It’s simply too shocking! What if someone observes us disembarking?”
“Well, you’ll have to be careful no one does, won’t you? After all, young ladies shouldn’t be around building sites regardless of signage. You are, as of this moment, restricted indoors. Is that understood?” Mademoiselle Geraldine was firm on this matter.
They all nodded.
Sophronia entertained herself by imagining what kind of disguise might best facilitate escape. She couldn’t, after all, look like a builder. She hadn’t the physicality for it.
“I guess if I want to wander around, I’ll have to pretend to be a sootie,” she muttered. After all, most industries required the use of small wiry boys in some capacity.
Dimity was shocked. “Sophronia, first men’s garb and now lower-class men’s garb? The very idea!”
Sophronia admitted, “It is daring. Luckily, I have no reason to leave the ship. Yet.”
“You will not be allowed off school grounds regardless, ladies,” continued Mademoiselle Geraldine. “It’s too dangerous to parade around London without an escort. Those of you who have families in town will make special arrangements. For the rest, this is an educational jaunt, not a pleasure cruise.”
Preshea was upset. “But the shopping! I have been given an extra allowance in anticipation of this trip!” She emphasized the final p so sharply it almost popped the eardrum.
“It will wait, Miss Buss.”
“But Monique’s party!”
“That’s enough, Miss Buss.”
Preshea looked sulky.
Monique was smug. Her parents were in town preparing for the ball. She would be allowed to shop as much as she pleased.
So they lodged in Hyde Park, and their classes continued despite the tempting activities outside the windows. The view included the aristocracy taking the air, hackney cabs rolling by, and the certain knowledge that, just out of reach, were all the luxuries and privileges afforded by town.
It was maddening, for everyone except Sidheag. Even Agatha, normally reticent, yearned to take in a theatrical performance. “Or perhaps an opera. I do adore the opera.”
Sophronia ruminated over whether the ban was intended to drive them into transgression, or if there was some serious threat to the students that warranted keeping them holed up. The teachers were not revealing any secrets, and with only a few attempted escapes by some of the older girls, the day passed smoothly.
The only odd occurrence was later that night, when instead of Professor Braithwope for evening lessons, they were put in with the older girls under Professor Lefoux. This was their first experience with Vieve’s aunt as an instructor.
Professor Lefoux was patiently brilliant and moved through the topic—industrial sabotage, tea, and supply trains—with such rapidity it left most of the class, regardless of age, utterly confused. Then she began to fire off questions in such a way as to make them all feel stupid. It was a traumatic experience and left them fervently wishing for the nice, easygoing, friendly vampire of their ordinary schedule.
Professor Braithwope was a dedicated teacher, and he didn’t like to change his routine. A monster of habit, the vampire. What, then, could possibly draw him away?
His place was empty at the head table at supper, as was a guest spot set next to it.
“He has a visitor,” said Sophronia, nibbling at some fried haddock.
“Oh, you think so?” Dimity was much less interested in the goings on of teachers than Sophronia.
“I do. An important visitor.”