Lady Linette perused the contents of Shrimpdittle’s confession. “I should think Mrs. Plumleigh-Teignmott would at least have notified me of the family’s intent to remove the children from my supervision.”
“You know scientists, easily distracted.”
Lady Linette looked again at the paper. “Are they really sending Shrimpdittle into exile?”
Lord Ambrose nodded. “The continent, as I understand.”
“Ah, well, I suppose he couldn’t be allowed to teach anymore.”
Sophronia felt an intense sensation of relief. At least Shrimpdittle wasn’t to be imprisoned or hanged, simply consigned to the wilds of Switzerland. She glared at Lord Ambrose. I could confront him directly, accuse him of the kidnapping, but they’re bound to believe an adult over me. I’ve no real proof.
Blast good manners. She made the attempt. “But I saw—”
“You were obviously mistaken,” interrupted Lord Ambrose.
Sister Mattie entered the ball and came bustling over to them. “My dears, Professor Braithwope is awake and lucid. He is asking for you, my lord potentate.”
Lady Linette nodded. “You’d best get along then, my lord.”
The potentate agreed. “Ambrose?”
“Oh, no, I’ll remain here. A ball with such tempting morsels is so very diverting.”
Lady Linette slapped his arm flirtatiously with her fan. “Now, now, keep your fangs to yourself, good sir.”
Lord Ambrose bowed to her. “Of course, dear lady, but perhaps you would honor me with a dance?”
“La, sir, how charming.”
He whirled her off onto the floor, both of them dancing expertly.
Sophronia realized she was on her own in mounting a rescue attempt. She began cataloging her options. I require supplies and a change of clothes. There was nothing for it; she would have to return to the airship. Plus I’ll need the hive house’s actual address. She looked at Captain Niall. The werewolf was the only adult who might help her. I’ll wager he knows the location. She started planning. Sidheag would be useful as well.
“Would you mind a little company on your drive back?” Sophronia looked with wide eyes at Sister Mattie. “I find I am rather bored with this ball.”
Everyone looked at her as though they had forgotten her existence.
Sister Mattie said, “Are you certain, dear? It looks like quite the treat.” Her tone was wistful.
Felix protested as well. “But I had two more dances with you.”
“How kind you are, dear Lord Mersey, but another time? Perhaps you might escort me out?” Sophronia used her best wheedling tone.
Felix had no choice. As a gentleman, he could do nothing but offer her his arm. He did so with grace if not alacrity.
Sophronia added, “And I believe Lady Kingair would also like to depart.”
Captain Niall, who was looking at Sophronia out of the corner of his eye, said, “I think I’ll be going as well.”
The potentate offered Sister Mattie his arm, and they pushed through the crowd. Captain Niall followed, grabbing at Sidheag’s sleeve in a lightning-fast move.
Sidheag left off her position, lurking partnerless near a potted palm, and trailed along with only mild confusion. She was game for anything that removed her from a ball. Plus, as she had once said to Sophronia, “Life’s always more interesting when I chum about with you.”
“What’s going on?” She craned her neck back and whispered to Sophronia.
“I’ll explain when we’re more secure.” Sophronia glanced meaningfully at the potentate’s back.
“Where’s Dimity?” Sidheag asked.
“Otherwise occupied.”
“Oh, dear.”
“Exactly.”
Sophronia turned to her escort and said in a low voice, “Lord Mersey, I know you believe my story.” She batted her eyelashes at him purposefully. “I was thinking there might be others who would be… interested… in Dimity’s current location.”
Felix blinked at her.
Lord save me, thought Sophronia, from boys without training. She nudged him with her elbow. “You know. Others.”
“Oh, yes, I see. Well, perhaps after the ball Father might, or…” Felix trailed off, Sophronia’s expression telling him she was profoundly disappointed. “Perhaps sooner,” he amended his speech.
They reached the street where the potentate’s carriage—a landau with footmen in full royal livery—stood waiting for them.
With the potentate, Sister Mattie, and Sidheag safely ensconced within, Captain Niall stood patiently waiting to hand Sophronia up. He was looking particularly well, especially by comparison to the werewolves from earlier that evening. Certainly his top hat was tied on, but he’d forgone the ubiquitous greatcoat for an impeccable black velvet cutaway jacket and matched trousers with a cream brocade waistcoat. His dark hair, longer than was fashionable, was brushed to silken, glossy waves. No wonder young ladies swooned. Felix was handsome in his brooding way, but next to Captain Niall he was boyish.
Sophronia leaned in and kissed Felix gently on the cheek, a reward for good behavior. “Thank you, Felix, for your understanding and your help.” She lowered her eyelashes prettily.
“Ria, you must be the most confusing girl I’ve ever met. You know I’m mad for you?”
“How kind of you to say.” Sophronia gave her hand to the werewolf, and he assisted her inside.
“Good hunting?” commented Sidheag, watching Felix’s retreating back as Sophronia settled in next to her.
“Son of a duke” was Sophronia’s only comment.
The drive back to Hyde Park was fast, tense, and uncomfortable. The potentate spent most of the time lecturing Sophronia on bandying accusations about without proper foundation.
“Imagine a hive interfering in matters of state! Even Westminster wouldn’t dare. You are a stupid, fanciful child. Accusing vampires willfully like that. You’ve been corrupted by association with that Golborne boy!”
Sister Mattie at first didn’t understand what was happening and then tried to defend Sophronia. “But the embroidered cushions did suggest the hive objected. I mean, our intelligencer inside, she indicated that they were upset with Picklemen actions.”
Sophronia perked up at that statement. So the embroidery was code—as I thought—detailing the danger between Westminster and the Picklemen. A spy from Mademoiselle Geraldine’s was trying to warn us from inside the hive. But when Madame Spetuna abandoned her post to infiltrate the flywaymen, there was no one to transport the cushions, and the warnings didn’t make it in time.
But the potentate dismissed this evidence. “Poppycock! I can not believe they would act without at least consulting me!”
Eventually, Sister Mattie merely tried to mollify him with platitudes. “Please, my lord potentate, try to remember that a pumpkin divided against itself cannot gourd!”
Sidheag followed the whole conversation in increasing bemusement, having no idea what was going on. Captain Niall held his tongue, stiff and uncomfortable in a vampire’s carriage. When they arrived back at the airship, the werewolf got out and skulked away into the night. Sophronia had no doubt he would wait for them groundside. He was no fool, Captain Niall.
Back on board, the potentate strode off to visit Professor Braithwope with one last sharp reprimand in Sophronia’s direction.
“You keep your opinions to yourself, little girl!”
Sister Mattie looked at her, face wrinkled with worry. “I’ll endeavor to keep him occupied, dears. But please remember, a lily cannot change its spots.”
As soon as it was safe to speak, Sidheag turned to Sophronia in frustration.
“What on earth is going on?”
“I don’t think much of our school’s patron, I’ll tell you that much,” said Sophronia, glaring at the vampire’s retreating back and sticking her tongue out at it childishly.
“Sophronia!”
“I’ll explain while we change. We have a rescue to mount and a hive house to infiltrate.”
“What?”
“Come on, please!”
“What are we changing into?” Sidheag asked, as they hurried back to their rooms.
Sophronia thought about her encounter with the fashionable blond vampire. “Dandies. We need to look like dandies.”
Sidheag pursed her lips. “I’m not cutting my hair.”
They did their best with the disguises, dressing in a combination of Sidheag’s trousers and their own lace under blouses and velvet vests. Real dandies would have had better-fitting clothing, not to mention superior cravats. The two girls ended up looking like something that came from an underfunded circus.
“We are ridiculous.” Sidheag adjusted her coat in the mirror. “And you don’t have a jacket.”
“Preshea has one of those new little short ones, you know, like the bullfighters of Spain.” Sophronia went off on a raid, returning with a bright red-and-gold bolero of which Preshea was particularly proud. Sophronia put it on.
“God’s teeth,” said Sidheag, succinctly.
They did look preposterous, but Sophronia felt that would throw people off if they were caught. “Here, wrap this blue scarf around your waist, and I’ll do the same with Dimity’s fringed yellow one, and we can say we have been attending a fancy dress ball.”
Sidheag did as she was told. “What will Captain Niall think of us?”
“Does that matter, so long as he gets us there? I do hope we have lessons soon on how to memorize locations. I’m annoyed with myself for not knowing how to get back to the hive.”
“Better to worry about how absurd we look! No one in their right mind would let us into their house. Wait, hive? What hive?”
Sophronia explained about Dimity and Pillover being kidnapped by Lord Ambrose and the Westminster Hive.
“I think the vampires want to force their parents to either stop making the guidance valves altogether or hand control of the technology over to the hive. Dimity’s parents are reportedly working for the Picklemen, and the vampires don’t trust Picklemen. Nor do I. For that matter, I just don’t trust any of them.” While she talked, she stashed anything she could think of that might be useful about her person—smelling salts in the waistcoat pocket, sewing scissors down the front of her corset, ribbon around her wrist, and a perfume-soaked handkerchief up one sleeve.
“I’m confused. Sabotage or not, this is clearly a technology vampires canna utilize.”
“I think that’s why they’re panicking. They’re trying to ensure this mode of travel is under their influence.”
Sidheag understood at that. “Can’t have the prey bouncing about through the aetherosphere all willy-nilly, now can they?”
“Sidheag, you think like a predator.”
The Lady of Kingair glowed in pleasure. “Thank you very much, Sophronia. What a nice thing to say.”
They were discussing whether to climb around the outside of the ship or save time by running the inside corridors but risk the mechanical alarm when Vieve showed up.