Captain Niall saluted the other werewolf. “Sir!”
Sophronia closed her eyes involuntarily. Vulkasin was one of the nastiest-looking supernatural creatures she’d ever seen. What have I done, delivering poor Shrimpdittle into his clutches?
“Any challenge?” The dewan looked over at the crowd of Picklemen.
They murmured briefly among themselves.
“Bad form,” Sophronia heard one of them say, “confessing like that. Very bad form.”
Finally, the oldest of the lot tilted his hat politely at three of the most powerful supernaturals in England and said, “We will, of course, provide legal counsel, but we cannot object to the arrest. It is justified. He will be immediately removed from all teaching responsibilities.”
With that, Lord Woolsey and the dewan walked away. Lord Woolsey carried the frantic Professor Shrimpdittle under one arm like a rolled umbrella.
Sophronia glanced at Felix’s face. The boy was shocked, but he did not look over at her, so he must not suspect her involvement.
Pillover, on the other hand, was glaring at her. “He really was one of the better teachers. It isn’t fair! Take it back, Sophronia!” With that, he grabbed his sister, still in a deep faint, and stormed off to the airship—half carrying, half dragging Dimity.
Sophronia, still worried about their safety, gave Sidheag a lips-compressed head tilt of encouragement.
“What am I,” grumbled the Lady of Kingair, “the nanny?” But she trotted after the Plumleigh-Teignmotts. She might have been a grumpy old thing, but she liked Dimity and she trusted Sophronia’s instincts.
Vieve, on the other hand, glanced up at Sophronia with shining eyes and said very softly, “All this for me? You’re too kind.”
“Oh, yes,” replied Sophronia, riddled with guilt. “I ruined one man and by doing so nearly killed another, all so you could go to school. You had better earn the sacrifice.”
“I shall be brilliant,” said Vieve with confidence. “What happened up there?”
“The blasted guidance valve failed. Or the professor was too crazed to remember to trigger it. It was awful. It was as if he went mad. And when he fell it took our ship forever to respond.”
Vieve tried a smile. “Don’t worry, both the professors will be fine.” She had all the optimism of a child.
Captain Niall, supernatural hearing and all, stared down at Sophronia and Professor Lefoux’s niece with a suspicious look. Apparently unable to fathom why or how Sophronia might orchestrate the visiting teacher’s mad act, he simply sighed deeply and said, “Why did I get involved with this kind of finishing school? Espionage is not for werewolves.”
Vieve said, pertly, “Boredom, sir?”
Captain Niall cuffed her ear gently and wandered off.
Lady Linette began marshaling the girls back on board. “Some of you,” she reminded them, “have a ball to dress for!” That got them moving with much greater rapidity than anything else.
Sophronia, truth to tell, was having an internal crisis. She hadn’t meant to drive Shrimpdittle to such lengths, but it was her fault. She had convinced the poor man that Professor Braithwope had bitten him. She had driven him to sabotage the guidance valve in the aether-suit. If Professor Braithwope died, she was to blame. Are character assassinations always this awful? she wondered. Will I have to learn to live with such consequences all the time? Am I really cut out to be an intelligencer, if this is part of it?
She responded like a mechanical to Lady Linette’s instructions.
On board the ship, everything was forgotten in the excitement of a ball. Girls rushed between chambers, rendering gown judgment and borrowing accessories. Only Sophronia stayed worried about Professor Braithwope’s condition.