Monique’s face sharpened. “Are you meddling, little girl? I wouldn’t meddle in things that don’t concern you.”
“Isn’t that exactly what we are being trained to do?”
Monique stepped in close, and Sophronia felt a prick at her throat. Under cover of full sleeves and bonnet ribbons, the older girl pressed a very sharp metal hair stick into Sophronia’s neck. “Accidents will happen.”
Sophronia was not to be cowed. She jerked away. “So will discoveries,” she hissed before moving swiftly on to Lady Linette’s. Monique followed her. She was no longer worried for her family; Monique wouldn’t tell anyone the hiding place. She wants to retrieve the prototype herself. She wants to stay in control of the operation. That’s what I’d want.
The other girls were already seated. They were looking, Sophronia realized, far better than they had in September. Dimity’s curls were more controlled. Preshea’s expression was not so sour, and Agatha had a nice piece of lace about her neck. Even Sidheag had improved her posture. Sophronia wondered what changes had been wrought upon her own appearance.
Lady Linette entered a few minutes after Monique, almost late for her own class. She looked harried underneath her copious frills and layers of face paint. “Ladies, it has come to our attention that someone tampered with the record room last night. Have any of you information to impart?”
The girls all looked at one another.
Monique raised her hand. “Sophronia, Dimity, Sidheag, and Agatha have been very subversive lately.”
Lady Linette turned blue eyes upon Monique. “Indeed, Miss Pelouse? Have you overheard anything concrete?”
“No, Lady Linette.” Monique shifted in her seat.
Lady Linette turned her attention to Sophronia. “Have you ladies been plotting?” Sophronia had no idea why she should be selected as the representative of the group, but supposed it was a fair cop. They did, as a general rule, tend to be her schemes.
She said, “I’m attempting to get them invited to my sister’s ball. That’s why I keep trying to send a message home.”
“Of course you are. But not Miss Buss or Miss Pelouse?”
Sophronia shrugged. “Mumsy won’t let me ask everyone. I mean to say, what comes next—the entire school?”
Monique looked prim. “I already have an invitation. I don’t need Sophronia’s help.”
Dimity gave Sophronia a very worried look.
Sophronia remained impassive. “Oh, yes? I didn’t know you knew my sister.”
“Nor did I,” interjected Lady Linette. “Considering Miss Pelouse’s last sojourn into your abode was under false pretenses, she will have to plan her outfit carefully. And you ladies, do you think you are ready for a ball so soon in your careers?”
Sidheag shrugged. Dimity nodded enthusiastically. Agatha stared at her hands.
Lady Linette sighed audibly. “Nothing to do with the record room, then, ladies?” She directed the full focus of her attention on Sidheag, of all people. “Are you certain you didn’t see anything in particular?”
Sidheag looked at Sophronia with a slight air of contrition and shrugged. Sophronia frowned. What does Sidheag have to feel guilty about?
“Is anything missing from the record room?” asked Sophronia.
“A quill, but nothing else.” Lady Linette redirected the query to become a teaching session. “So what do we believe an infiltrator might have been after, ladies?”
“Information,” said Preshea promptly. “It is a record room.”
“Exactly, Miss Buss. Very good.”
“The culprit has to be someone already on board school grounds,” added Sophronia. “Unless infiltrators can get on and off without the mechanicals noticing.”
“Good, Sophronia.”
“That’s why you are interrogating the students.”
“Lady Linette.” Dimity straightened up. “Are the records of students kept in that room?”
Lady Linette nodded.
Sophronia, seeing where Dimity might be steering the conversation, said, “So the culprit wanted to see information, change information, or steal information. Which means a vested interest. Older student, perhaps, skilled enough to get in, with something at risk?”
Sophronia stopped herself there, not wanting to push her luck, and carefully didn’t look at Monique. Casting blame elsewhere was a classic misdirection tactic, but it had to be practiced with care. Particularly as it was Lady Linette who had explained the technique to her.
“So can Agatha, Sidheag, and Dimity come with me to my sister’s ball? Are they socially skilled enough for public exhibition?” Sophronia asked, hoping to change the subject now that she had planted a seed of suspicion.
“If their parents approve. You’ll have to wait until we exit the gray. Now, what to teach today? Oh, yes. Posture.”
That evening, Monique de Pelouse and a few of the older girls were taken in for questioning by Lady Linette, Professor Lefoux, and Professor Braithwope. A new rumor instantly sprang up that Monique was the one who had broken into the record room, supposedly to doctor her files over failing to finish.
“It’s a great rumor,” said Dimity proudly when they were safely back in their room, changing for dancing lessons. “Did you stash some of that rose perfume oil in her room?”
Sophronia grinned. “Of course.”
“Nice to get a little of our own back.” Dimity was busy rinsing out their now vinegar-scented underthings in the washbasin.
“How do you think Monique managed to get invited to my sister’s ball?”
Dimity said, “Connections. Your father belongs to some kind of gentlemen’s club, doesn’t he?”
“Don’t all fathers?” Sophronia finished with the bacon grease and the sewing scissors and fed the excess fat to Bumbersnoot, who belched black smoke appreciatively.
“A note from Monique to her darling papa right after we arrived here, and your mother is sending out one extra invitation to one bony blonde.”
“No, I mean how’d she get the note off the ship?”
“Oooh, good question. She had help?”
“She had help.”
“Who?”
“Now that, Dimity, is a really good question.” Sophronia wandered over to assist in wringing out the clothing. Dimity had clearly never even observed a washing day, let alone scrubbed clothing herself; she handled it so tentatively it was as though the fabric might be seized with a spirit of disapproval and administer a wet slap across her face.
“This could turn out to be a good thing,” Sophronia said.
“How so? Monique is sure to be better-dressed and have more dances than us.”
“She could lead us right to where she hid the prototype.”
“We’ll have to keep an eye on her the entire ball.”
“What an unpleasant thought. Still, there are four of us and only one of her.”
“With years’ more training.”
Sophronia made herself sound confident. “We did pretty well last night.”
Dimity nodded. “Although I thought in Lady Linette’s class that Sidheag might break.”
Sophronia nodded. “I know. It’s not like her. What do you think that was about?”
Dimity shook her head.
Sophronia slumped onto her bed. Or, to be more precise, she slumped down into her corset, which didn’t allow for very much slumping. Then, after a moment’s thought, she stood and left their room, heading for Sidheag and Agatha’s.
Sidheag wasn’t there, but Agatha let her in.
“Sophronia?”
“Could I have a little look out of your window, please, Agatha?”
“Well, um, if you like.”
Sophronia went over to the window. She had to stand on Sidheag’s bed to see out of it. It was one of those tiny portholes, like the ones on seafaring steamers.